This Used to be My Playground
by Daimeera
Summary: She was a wreck, and no one, not even Ellie, could help but notice. She was makeup free, with dark circles around her eyes, and she hadn't showered in three days. Her hair hung in strings around her face, and her normally perfect skin was oily.
1. Too Tired to Sleep

This Fanfic is intended to follow my previous story, _Come What May. _This is not, however, a sequel, and knowledge of CWM is unnecessary to this plot.

* * *

**Too Tired to Sleep**

Paige Michalchuk had been ill for two weeks and counting, and, as she thought with a wry smile, she positively sick of being sick. Social queens didn't get sick for more than two days at a time--they just didn't. It was career threatening. A reputation disaster--and one she absolutely would not submit to.

So early one March morning, Ms. Michalchuk dragged herself out of bed following a twelve-hour sleep, put on some makeup, and forced herself to school. Falling asleep in class was less of a social faux pas than not being there at all.

She quickly made attempts at staunching the rumours--namely the one that she had gotten a certain disease that had been recently haunting Degrassi's hallowed halls, one obtained in the most disturbing of ways, if you will. She didn't even bother about the Russian spy rumour. She suspected a certain Ellie Nash was at the bottom of that one. She supposed she should be grateful, then again, the girl owed her. She'd practically saved Ellie's hiney the year before, even if she couldn't do much for her social status. Still, Paige liked the girl well enough.

By lunchtime, Paige was forced to wonder if she HAD contracted the horrible, disgusting disease. Had her darling Mattie been fraternizing with students other than herself? He quickly confirmed that he hadn't, and she knew he was telling the truth. So she dragged herself to a table, hauled out her lunch, and pasted a smile on her lips--after touching up her strawberry gloss, of course.

And then came goth-girl herself, lacking, to Paige's surprise, one certain male accessory. She was clinging on to Ashley instead, and since Ashley always sat with Paige, Ellie often did as well.

"Okay, hon, please tell me you didn't dump Sean," Paige said. "I mean, you guys make me want to throw up, but you and Spinner were, like, a million times worse."

Ellie chuckled slightly. The girl had been over the moon ever since escaping the insane asylum (well, okay, Paige though, that wasn't entirely fair) and finding her way back into Sean's arms. The two were more than odd, and Paige shuddered to think what they did in between the sheets at night.

"Sean's in the shop," Ellie said. "Trying to get caught up. He thinks he'll still be able to get his year, even after all that happened." All that happened. That was the understatement of the year. Paige wasn't entirely sure which version of the story to believe--and Ellie sure wasn't telling--but no matter which rumour was true, the couple had gone through a lot. Including a certain Spinner Mason, who Paige simply preferred not to think about.

"Well shouldn't you be with him, hon? Kissing him, handing him his wrench? PDA may not be strictly allowed, but it's the backbone of high school." Okay, so it wasn't a brilliant comment. But Paige's body wasn't feeling particularly cooperative, and saying something was better than nothing at all. She wondered how bad it would look if she were to take the afternoon off, maybe get a few more hours of sleep. After all, you fight the flu with rest, right? And obviously, this was the rottenest flu in the world. Okay, slight exaggeration. But close enough.

She let out a delicate yawn. "Well, it's been... fun. But I have places to be. Ta!" she stood and waved, forcing her trademark Paige smile onto her trademark Paige lips. Maybe tomorrow she would try mint gloss. After all, mint supposedly wakes you up, or something. Plus, her darling Mattie (my, how he hated that name) loved peppermint. So she could probably coax him into a few stolen kisses in the janitor's closet. Or the teacher's lounge, if she was lucky.

She barely made it home, thanking her lucky stars she didn't fall asleep at the wheel, and dropped onto the couch. Her bedroom upstairs was simply too far away. Her entire body ached, but that didn't prevent her from dozing off. She was too exhausted even to dream.

--------------------------

"Paigey, I'm just concerned. It's been two weeks--more than two weeks. You usually recover from even the worst flus within a few days. Dr. Sanford could just take a quick look at you, and--"

"Mom, I'm fine. And I have to practice for Spirit Squad, work, get caught up on my schoolwork--I don't have time to see a doctor, let alone be sick."

"And that's the point, Paige," Rose insisted. "Visit Dr. Sanford. She'll figure out what's wrong, give you some anti-biotics, and you'll be fine. Half an hour, and it'll save you time in the long run."

Okay, so the woman had a point. And she could be more stubborn than Paige herself. "Fine. I'll let her poke and prod if it'll make you feel better. Just... Try to get me an appointment during English, okay? Kwan is brutal."

"Mrs. Kwan." The correction was automatic, but Paige merely rolled her eyes and retreated to her room, ready to maintain her social status (Hello! That's what telephones and the internet were created for) and maybe, if she was lucky, catch a few more z's.

She logged on to her preferred messaging service. No Hazel. No Terri, which was unfortunate, but not surprising. A few of her online colleagues, but they were hardly useful. Ah, there was goth-girl again. Odd, since there was no way that Sean and Ellie could afford a computer, let alone internet service. She had to investigate.

**Pretty in Pink** says:  
_el? what are you doing on here?_

**Shut the Hell Up **says:  
_Can you not read? Sigh. I'm at the library. And if I may say so, Paige, you should be asleep. You looked like shit today._

**Pretty in Pink** says:  
_thanks for the compliment. coming from you..._

**Shut the Hell Up** says:  
_Well, it's been a pleasure. Or something. But I'm getting kicked out of here. Back to Sean's it is. Well, not Sean's. Sean's and my place. :)_

Well at least someone was happy, Paige decided. And maybe Ellie did have a point about the sleep thing. Bags under one's eyes simply aren't fashionable accessories, after all. And cover-up can only do so much. She pulled on her fluffiest pink pajamas and hopped into bed. Despite her exhaustion, it took her several hours to fall asleep.


	2. Water Runs Dry

A note, before you start reading. This is a somewhat modified version of the original chapter 2-although it doesn't yet appear this way, the Paige storyline will be a sub-plot rather than the main plot. It is difficult to write about an extended illness only, and still have the drama needed to maintain interest in a story. Besides, I missed Ellie.

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**Chapter II - Water Runs Dry**

"So...?"

"Blood tests galore, mother. She thinks I have mono." Paige was not pleased with that particular diagnosis. Okay, so maybe it could be passed in ways other than the commonly accepted manner, but mono would do nothing for her reputation. For goodness sake, Heather Sinclaire had gotten mono, and Heather was... well, Heather.

"The lab is still open. I'd really like you to get it over with." Rose was more concerned than she was ready to admit to her daughter-just as Paige was more concerned than she was willing to admit to anyone.

"Mom! I already missed one class. There's no way in hell I'm missing lunch, too."

"Language, Paige."

"Mo-ther. Hello! I'm a teenager." She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Let's go to the lab, get this done, and then I have more important things to do."

Paige arrived back at school halfway through lunch. They'd taken about five hours, in her estimation, to extract her blood, and she supposed she was paler than Ellie herself. And speak of the devil... Ellie (reacquainted with Sean) waved her over to her table. Paige gave her an incredulous look, but obeyed.

"Hello, Ellie," she said, pleasantly enough, she supposed.

"Paige." Ellie nodded her greeting, and Sean made some sort of Neanderthal-esque grunt. Paige considered rolling her eyes, but decided that it was too much effort, and would probably be lost on them anyway.

"Okay, so you wanted to talk to me? Maybe ask for wardrobe tips?" Paige simply couldn't resist, and Ellie actually did roll her eyes. Very rude of her, too, Paige decided.

"I actually have no idea why I called you over in the first place," Ellie said, suppressing a laugh. "I guess I wanted to see how you were doing. And maybe apologize for the whole looking like shit comment, even if it was true." She giggled. Ellie Nash, THE Ellie Nash, actually giggled. Paige was speechless. "So how are you doing?"

"Um..." Okay, so it was far from brilliant. But Paige was stunned, and that calls for some leniency in social standards. "I'm fine. I-why do you care?"

Ellie shrugged. "I probably shouldn't, but you've been surprisingly decent to me. And someone has to ask."

"Well, hon, it's a nice sentiment, but I'm fine. And you're hardly the one to be asking." Ellie's face fell ever so slightly, and Paige couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. "But thanks. And you're, uh, looking better lately?" Thankfully, the bell rang. Perhaps the 'saved by the bell' cliche existed for a reason.

* * *

"Paige? Paige Michalchuk?"

Okay, so Paige hadn't actually meant it when she came up with the theory that falling asleep in class was better than not making it to class at all. Then again, she hadn't actually thought it was possible to fall asleep in class-yet here she was, being yelled at by Kwan. Too bad her mother hadn't listened and actually made her appointment during English class as she had requested.

"Sorry, Ms. Kwan." She gave her best smile. "It won't happen again. Um, what was the question?"

The teacher sighed. "Never mind this time. But I'd like to see you after class for a moment. Ellie, can you please read us your answer to question five?" As Ellie mumbled on about the obscure meaning behind Shakespeare's whatever, Paige pinched herself for the umpteenth time, trying to keep her eyes open. She might have bruises, but at least she wouldn't have detention. After all, she had Spirit Squad after school, not to mention work that evening, plus some quality time with a certain student teacher. She almost groaned thinking about it all-and then she remembered that she couldn't afford a detention. Circular thinking, or whatever it was, was so unpleasant.

She doodled her way through class, and stayed behind as Kwan had requested, hoping she'd be able to keep herself awake through the inevitable lecture. She was somewhat surprised at what she heard.

"Paige, I've been speaking to your other teachers, and we're concerned. You've had considerable absences-"

"Ms. Kwan, I'll make up the work if that's what you're worried about."

"-and you don't seem like yourself. You look exhausted. You're not as interested in your normal activities as usual. Have you considered that you might be depressed? You seem to be exhibiting the-"

"I'm not depressed," Paige said. "Okay, Ellie is maybe-oops. Pretend you didn't hear that. But I'm not. I probably just have a nasty flu. Or, if I'm really unlucky, mono." She couldn't believe she was having to say such a thing. But it wasn't as if she could just stand there and let the teacher babble on about her own warped theories.

"If you ever need to talk, or get help catching up, we're here for you," the teacher continued. Paige concluded it was easier just to bob her head in agreement than argue-and sure enough, Kwan soon finished her speech.

"Thanks for the concern," Paige said, as sweetly as she dared. "I'll keep it in mind, really. But I should be going. I have Spirit Squad, and..." Kwan nodded, and Paige fled to the changing room. She pulled on her uniform, then reached for her bag.

"Shit," she murmured. "Shit, shit, shit." She only swore when there was no one around to hear her-vulgarities were unbecoming of a social leader, after all. This was certainly worthy of her language, however-she'd completely forgotten to bring the music for their practice. She groaned, and briefly considered throwing herself out a window before remembering that the changing room was in the basement.

She spotted Manny, and had a brilliant brainwave. Let it be known that Paige Michalchuk never met a person she couldn't use, and never dealt with a situation she couldn't handle.

"Manny, hon, just the person I was hoping to see." Okay, so a little white lie couldn't hurt anyone, right? "I want offer you the opportunity of a lifetime. How would you like to help me run Spirit Squad today?"

"Uh, Paige, isn't that your job?" The conversation wasn't quite going as Paige had planned. She'd expected the younger girl to jump at the chance; then again Manny had been a bit more introverted since the whole pregnancy incident.

"I have this super-nasty bug that I'm trying to get over," Paige said. "And I thought, why not save my voice, and do Manny a big favour at the same time? I mean, next year I graduate, so after I leave, someone will have to take it over."

"Well, sure-"

"I knew you'd be delighted," Paige said cheerfully, heading toward the gym. She wiggled in fingers in a wave. "See you there."

* * *

Sean was closing the handcuffs around her wrists, while she giggled wildly, when the phone rang. She kissed him and groaned and begged him not to pick up, but his sense of responsibility won out. He answered it, listened briefly, and handed it to Ellie. She rolled her eyes, but accepted it.

"Hello?" she asked, still having trouble containing her laughter. She was momentarily distracted by Sean's lips on her neck.

"Eleanor Nash?"

"Mmhmm. That's me. Or I. Or whatever." She knew she sounded like a complete ditz, but Sean somehow had that effect on her. Besides, trying to hold the phone when one's hands were handcuffed together was in and of itself amusing.

"You're a relative of Colonel John Nash?"

"He's my father," Ellie said. "What's going on?"

"I'm afraid your father has been involved in an incident. He's currently in a hospital on base overseas. He'll be transported to Canadian territory when his condition is stabilized. Your mother asked us to call and let you know-we've given her the rest of the details." Ellie wondered for a brief moment why her mother hadn't made the call herself, then realized that she was the cause of that-Ellie had hung up on her mother more than once.

"Um, thanks," Ellie said finally. She set down the phone, her skin an ashen grey, and took a moment to compose herself. Sean was waiting somewhat impatiently, concern in his eyes.

"Your dad? You mentioned him. Is everything okay, Ellie?"

She managed a shaky smile. "Come here," she said, kissing him hard on the mouth.

He was surprised for a moment. Ellie had been known to take the lead, certainly, but not with that level of aggression. "El? What's going on?" She tried to kiss him again, but this time he caught her hands and gently pushed her away. He fumbled with the handcuffs, and a moment later her hands were free.

"Come here, Sean," she said again, this time with some impatience in her voice. He shook his head and draped his sweater around her shoulders.

"Ellie, who was on the phone?" he asked.

She giggled. "I don't know. Some psycho. Come on, Sean, I don't want to talk about that. Let's have some fun. Or I can amuse you with more stories about how Paige and I don't want to kill each other. But I'd rather do something much more entertaining. With you." She gave him her best suggestive look.

He ignored her request. "And what did the person say?" he asked patiently.

Ellie laughed outright this time. "My dad. He's in the hospital. Now come on!" Before he had a chance to react, she pushed him lightly backwards onto the bed.

"Ellie! Stop. We're not doing this. You're not doing this. You're in shock, okay? You shouldn't be making any decisions right now."

"But Sean, I'm fine," she whined. "Five minutes ago you were into this." She pushed away his sweater, and reached for the handcuffs, which he held firmly out of reach. "Sean," she moaned again. "Don't be like this." He shook his head and wrapped the sweater back around her, hugging it gently in place.

"He'll be okay. You'll be okay," he said gently. She started to turn around to kiss him again, but before she could, the tears overwhelmed her. "It's okay," Sean said again, willing her to stop shaking her head in desperation. He'd never done drama well. His first indication was to run, but damnit, it was Ellie. So he held her and whispered sweet nothings in her ear and hoped that somehow, he was doing the right thing-that somehow, he was easing her pain.

They stayed that way for awhile until she eventually dozed off and he could tuck her in between the sheets. He pulled his own pants back on, and headed to the bathroom and then the kitchen, confiscating anything remotely sharp. He knew that in her present state, she wouldn't hesitate to revert to old habits.

He called Ms. Sauve, and Dr. Cavanaugh as well, figuring they should know what was going on. They promised to see Ellie as soon as they could if she felt she needed an appointment, and offered him words of encouragement, as well as a few tidbits of advice, and a lot of sympathy. He could sense the genuine concern in their voices, and that alone was reassuring.

With some trepidation, he also dialed Ellie's mother's number. She picked up only after several rings, and before she'd said two words, Sean knew she was drunk. He used much the same tactic as he had with Ellie-asking simple, direct questions-and with some difficulty was able to extract a few pieces of information. Mr. Nash was in a coma, and chances were good that he would lose part of his left leg, and a lot of his memories-assuming he woke up at all. The news was much worse than Sean had been prepared for, and he knew he would try and keep it from Ellie for as long as he could-even if that wasn't the right decision, it was still one he was going to make.

He rummaged around in the kitchen, trying to find tea or hot chocolate or soup, or anything he could possibly use to soothe both their nerves. The fridge was nearly bare, the shelves worse. He wondered if he dared leave Ellie alone while he went shopping. They weren't normally so prone to neglecting their necessities, however they'd been rather distracted as of late.

He sighed and concluded that he'd have to go eventually, and leaving Ellie asleep was better than leaving her awake and desperate. He attempted to reach Ashley and Marco and even Paige, but neither of the first two picked up, and Paige's line was busy, just as he had expected. Praying that Ellie would be there when he returned, he very reluctantly grabbed a shirt and his keys, and headed for the store.


	3. SemiCharmed Life

Expect more on Paige in the near future. I have a basic plan for her plot now, which means I can actually start on it without boring myself and everyone else.

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**Chapter III - SemiCharmed Life**

The sound of Sean starting the car forced Ellie awake. She was naked but for Sean's sweater, and for a moment, she remembered nothing. When it came rushing back, she wished she could forget.

She headed immediately to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. "Shit! Shit, shit shit." She knew that if Sean had disposed of one weapon, he'd disposed of them all, but that didn't stop her from making the rounds. After a few moments of futility, she forced herself to calm down, knowing she'd have only a short time until Sean returned home. She trudged to their bedroom (well, hers when her father was around) and pulled on some clothes, not bothering with makeup or even a brush through her hair. She could only find one sock, so she pulled it on, and found an old pair of gym sneakers. She grabbed her bag and exited the apartment, hopped down two floors of stairs, and left the building, her eyes trained on the ground.

Had she been in a rational mind, she would have realized that Toronto during the day wasn't exactly a safe place for a young female to travel by herself, let alone Toronto approaching midnight. Luckily for her, the one man who would have bothered took a look at her dishevelled appearance and immediately changed his mind. Perhaps beauty isn't such a useful thing after all.

She stumbled down the sidewalk (a product of both her semi-delirirum, and the fact that her sneakers were too small) until she reached a medical supply shop. She pushed on the door, and to her surprise, it opened. A man quickly called out to her. "Miss? We're closed. I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

"I'll just be a minute," she mumbled. She walked to the third aisle. She knew the route well-she'd walked it many a time, although she'd never had the courage to make a purchase. Razor blades she could handle, but scalpals had always seemed a little too severe. This time, though, she didn't hesitate. She fumbled through her bag, trying to find money, and discovered there was none. Without thinking about it, she shoved the package inside and with a cheery wave, headed for the door-just in time to be apprehended by a police officer.

"Why don't you come with me?" he asked.

It sounded to Ellie like a suggestion, so she chose to decline. "Thanks," she said politely. "But I'd rather not." She started once more toward the apartment, but he reached out and took a firm hold of her arm. "Let me go!" she protested. "That's assault, or something. I don't have to go anywhere with you."

He pulled out his badge. "Actually, you do," he said quietly. She shook her head and struggled some more. "Please, miss, calm down. There's no need for this." She ignored his words, so he pulled out his handcuffs and snapped them onto her wrists, hoping to remain in control. She took one look at them and started laughing, her eyes wild.

"Handcuffs!" She giggled some more. "I'd love to, but I'm Sean's. You'll just have to wait in line!" He wondered briefly if she was drunk, but there was no evidence of alcohol on her breath, and he quickly dismissed the thought. She continued to laugh hysterically, and he did his best to ignore it and transport her to a local police station.

He tried to take her bag from her, but she put up such a fight that he quickly decided it was better to leave it with her for the time being. It was too small to conceal any particularly dangerous weapon, and her hands were cuffed, anyway. She calmed down slightly, enough for him to feel confident enough to sit her down and ask her a few questions.

"What's your name, please?" he said, notepad in hand.

She giggled for a moment, still caught up on the handcuffs, but then tried to put on a more serious expression. "Um, Ellie."

"And do you have a last name, Ellie?" he asked patiently.

"Of course. Doesn't everyone?" She was, at least somewhat, reverting to her normal self.

He shook his head. "Ellie, you should know that you have the right to have a lawyer present. If you waive that right, anything you say here could be used against you in the courts. If you can't afford a lawyer, we can provide one for you. Do you understand?"

She nodded, looking vaguely confused. "Why would I need a lawyer?"

"You were seen shoplifting," he said. "That's a crime."

"Oh that." She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "Look, I'm sorry. I would have paid but I forgot my wallet, and I really needed it. Look, just drive me back to my apartment and I'll give you the money okay?"

"You need a scalpal at 11:30 PM?" he asked, clearly skeptical. "What, did you forget to do a biology project?"

"Um. Something like that?" she said. "I'm sorry, okay? Can I just go? Sean will be worried."

"I'm afraid I can't do that just yet. But this Sean... who is he, by the way?"

"Oh. He's my boyfriend. We live together at my Dad's place. Well, our place. Or mine now. I don't know how those things work." He raised an eyebrow. "Don't do that!" Ellie complained. "I can't. So you shouldn't." He was mistified, but didn't bother trying to make sense of it.

"Is there some way that I could reach Sean?" he asked. "A phone number, or an address?"

Ellie bit her lip. "555-2791," she said finally. "But he might not be there." He nodded and left the room. Ellie finally dared to examine her surroundings-not that she was very much more rational than five minutes before. The room was small and dark, with what Ellie supposed was a two-way mirror. It wasn't as glamorous as on tv-not that that was really saying much. The table was old, and there was half-empty paper cup of coffee set in the corner.

The officer returned a moment later. "We managed to get in touch. He's going to meet us at the hospital."

Ellie was immediately stunned into a certain sobriety. "The hospital? Why? I didn't hurt myself."

"Mr. Cameron explained the scalpal mystery. I also contacted Mr. Greene-the owner of the shop. We're not pressing charges."

"I stole something. Press charges. I did it just for the thrill. I don't know what Sean told you, but he's a liar. I don't need to go to the hospital." Ellie hated the place-so much in fact, that she'd rather be anywhere else, including jail, if that's what it took.

"Let's go," he said. "They'll be waiting for you at the hospital."

She looked at him in astonishment. "Did you not hear a word I just said?"

"I heard." He stood up and took her arm, leading her to one of the police cars. She clutched her bag awkwardly in one hand, not wanting to give it up. He allowed it once more, for the moment, knowing there was little she could do with her hands attached togather.

She glared out the window, trying desperately to hold back tears. She couldn't break down-she wouldn't break down. It simply wasn't an option. She repeated the words to herself time after time until they made it to the familiar brick building.

"Ready?" he asked, a first trace of sympathy in his voice.

"No." But it didn't matter.


	4. The Sun Always Shines on TV

More Paige very soon, I promise. I did, however, have to keep it in chronological order, and therefore I absolutely had to do this is a primarily Ellie-Sean-related chapter. Hope it doesn't freak anyone out too much, and thanks for the reviews and continued support.

* * *

**Chapter IV - The Sun Always Shines on TV**

Sean was in the waiting room, looking downright terrified, when they arrived. He rushed forward to greet them, wrapping his arms around Ellie in a gentle embrace, despite her struggles.

"Are you okay?" he asked, tilting her chin up with one finger so she couldn't avoid his eyes.

She shrugged slightly. "I'd be better if I weren't in this place. And especially if I didn't have these damn handcuffs on."

"You'll get them off when you're checked in," the officer said. He reached out his hand toward Sean. "Sean Cameron? I'm Patrick MacKenna. We spoke on the phone." Sean nodded and shook his hand before turning his attention back to Ellie. He carefully pried the bag from her hands, and she didn't try to stop him.

"It'll be okay," Sean said softly. He pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Just hang in there." She nodded, somewhat calmer within his presence.

She was half-numb, half-delirious while they got her checked in, and afterwards, she couldn't even remember what had gone on. The next thing she knew, she was sitting on a bed, a guard nearby, and a worried-looking Sean sitting in the corner. She tried to swipe at a strand of hair tickling to her cheek, and to her surprise, her hands were free. She blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what was going on.

"We're waiting for Dr. Cavanaugh," Sean explained. "She'll be here in a few minutes." Ellie groaned and glared up at the ceiling. "Try to talk to her," he continued. "You know she wants to help. And you'll get out of here sooner."

"Can I have my bag?" Ellie asked.

Sean shook his head. "At least not until she gets here. We want to keep you safe, El. It isn't punishment."

"Mom needs me. I should be with her. Not here in this place." She was willing to try any tactic-and the fact was, this was one she believed.

"You can't help her until you help yourself." Sean was terrified. He had no idea what to say-what would hurt, what would help, what would alienate her forever. All he knew was that not being there was the quickest road to hell.

To his relief, he was saved from further comment as Dr. Cavanaugh rushed into the room, out of breath. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and she was dressed casually and without makeup.

"Fifteen minutes," she said smiling. "Not bad, eh? Fifteen minutes to wake up, change, make myself presentable, and get over here." She observed Ellie carefully, somewhat concerned when she didn't react at all. "Ellie?" she said gently. Ellie still didn't look up. The doctor turned instead to Sean and the security guard. "I think we can take it from here," she said. "For now. Sean, there's a waiting room just down the hall, if you want. You can try to sleep, or watch some crappy TV."

Sean nodded, and the security guard followed him out of the room. Dr. Cavanaugh took the seat he'd been in moments before.

"Ellie?" she said again. "Can you look at me, please?" Ellie remained unmoving for several long seconds, and the doctor was beginning to think she wouldn't respond at all, when Ellie finally glanced up at her.

"My bag," Ellie murmured. "Can I have it? They took it. I can't exactly do anything when you're here."

The doctor hesitated, then nodded, recognizing that Ellie had taken the initiative. "But you have to give me the weapon immediately," she said, aware of the situation. "Promise?" She'd come to realize, through their sessions, that Ellie would almost rather do anything than break a promise. The fact that Dr. Cavanaugh had recognized this, and trusted Ellie, had been a big breakthrough in Ellie trusting her in return.

"Promise," Ellie said reluctantly. The doctor handed her the bag, and Ellie just as quickly, although much more grudgingly, handed her the scalpel. The doctor continued to keep a very close eye on her, protesting when she slipped both hands inside.

"One hand visible at all times," she said firmly. "Or I get it back." It was one demand Ellie had no trouble meeting-she'd already found what she wanted. She yanked it out of the bag.

Much to Dr. Cavanaugh's surprise, a Barbie dangled by the hair from Ellie's clenched fist. The doll was dressed in a miniature plaid skirt and black tank top, and adorned with tiny chains much like the ones Ellie had been known to wear. Her legs were clad in hand-made striped socks, and plastic knee-high boots, and her original blond hair and been painstakingly removed, and replaced with higher-quality auburn locks. Her eyes had been traced with thin lines of black, her lips in lavender. It was upon closer examination, however, that the doctor noticed streaks of red crayon covering the doll's body.

"Eleanor Barbie," Ellie said, giggling. "Now with twenty percent more danger. Miniature razor blade, knife, pills and noose come free with each doll, for your playing pleasure!" She grabbed the doll's legs and twisted them, making it turn around in quick rotation, and laughing maniacally.

"Ellie, what is this?" Dr. Cavanaugh asked. She kept her voice calm, masking her own concern as she had long been taught to do. She'd seen similar before, but never with Ellie.

"Eleanor Barbie!" Ellie said again. "A pocket-sized Ellie to torment when I'm not around." She yanked on the hair, and the head popped off. She stopped laughing for a moment, her mouth gaping, then started up again. "Pop!" she said. "Bye-bye Ellie!"

She barely felt the prick of the needle in her arm.

* * *

Paige stared up at the ceiling, trying to force her eyes closed. This whole insomnia thing was not her cup of tea. Dr. Sandford had promised to get the results as quickly as possible-ah, the benefits of having contacts where it mattered-but even so, she couldn't help but worry.

Mono was so NOT worth thinking about, yet she'd almost come to accept it. At least if it were mono, it couldn't be anything worse-not that it was anything worse, she assured herself. But mono would be nice and tangible, albeit gross, but a few months, and she'd be back to her old self.

Yes, she decided, she had mono. She had mono, and it was horrible and embarrassing, but she would deal. She would have bubble baths, and keep up with her work, and she'd come out of it more beautiful and on top than when she'd gotten ill.

Right?

* * *

Sean's body ached-the product of trying to sleep sitting up, he supposed-but he wouldn't have left the hospital for any amount of money. An infomercial blared out from the television, and he was reluctantly transported back to the days following the shooting. He'd dealt with it, but there was still an inevitable twinge of guilt when he was reminded of what had gone on. He pushed the thought out of his mind, and turned his attention back to the TV.

"Sean?" He jumped up in surprise at the doctor's voice, and was immediately wide awake.

"How is she? Is she okay? Can I talk to her?" He was more worried than he'd admitted even to himself. He hadn't realized just how close they'd become lately.

The doctor held up her hand in protest. "We gave her a sedative. She was getting too wound up, and we didn't have much of a choice. We attempted to contact her mother, but didn't succeed, and we're going to keep trying."

"Don't," Sean said. "You know what she's like."

"I know," the doctor replied. "But Ellie is a minor. We have no choice."

He gave a very reluctant nod. "Can I be with her?"

"Like I said, we gave her something to make her sleep for awhile. She won't be awake for a fairly long time, but you can stay in her room if you'd like. You should try and get some rest yourself, though. You won't be much good to her if you can't keep your eyes open." She smiled sympathetically. "She's under a huge amount of stress that was dumped on her suddenly, but she's resilient. We'll get her through it. Try not to worry too much, although I know that's easier said than done." She didn't mention the incident with the doll, both due to the confidentiality policy, and the fact that she didn't want to unnecessarily make him too concerned.

Sean thanked her, but he was already drifting toward Ellie's room. She gave a brief nod, and he needed no further prompting-he could barely force himself not to run.

Ellie was asleep, as the doctor had explained. To Sean, she looked tiny and fragile amongst the clean, white sheets. He wished he could pick her up and whisk her away to some place where she wouldn't hurt, then pinched himself lightly. This was reality, and he couldn't save her. He could help, maybe, but he couldn't protect her from everything.

He bent over and brushed a finger over her cheek, pulling a strand of hair out of her face. He gave her a gentle kiss and pulled the chair over next to the bed. He noted that her breathing was even, and her expression peaceful, and it was some comfort to him. He found her hand with his own, and cradling it in his lap, he finally closed his eyes. One tear dripped down his cheek, and onto her hand, and then he was asleep.


	5. War of Nerves

A/N: Apologies all around. Sorry it took so long, and sorry it's rushed sounding, and sorry it isn't particularly enjoyable. I was struggling with this chapter quite a bit, and I'm not happy with it at all, but I figured I owed an update anyway. The Paige story will take awhile to develop simply because it's the nature of what she's dealing with, so patience is appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter V - War of Nerves**

Paige wasn't pleased. "And you're sure I don't have mono?" she asked her doctor. "Like, 100 sure?"

"Positive."

Paige sighed. "Okay, then what do I have? An STD? I'll kill that asshole."

"Calm down," Dr. Sandford said patiently. She was somewhat afraid Paige was about to kill her as well. "I need to do some more testsextra blood work, urinalysis-"

"I have to pee in a cup!"

"-maybe an ultrasound."

"Okay, but what the hell is wrong with me?" So maybe Paige grew slightly hysterical now and again. Surely no one could blame her for it, and it wasn't as if Dr. Sandford determined her social standing.

"Short answer, we don't know yet," the doctor said.

"Okay, but why not? You stole half my blood, poked and prodded, and you still don't know? Look, I'm sure you're competent and all, but this is my life. Okay? These are supposed to be the best years I have. And I want themall of them, every minute."

"Paige, you need to calm down. Give me a few more days to get the results of these tests before you get too upset. Diagnoses can talk time. In the meantime, just try and gradually build up the amount of activity you do. You're likely just recovering from the flu, and if you push yourself too hard, you'll burn out entirely."

Paige sighed and accepted the various requisition forms. The lab was open for the entire morning, so her mother insisted upon getting the tests done, and managed to schedule an ultra-sound for the next day. Rose was as amazed as her daughterthe health system was not normally nearly so efficient. Paige supposed she should be concerned that she was an emergency, but frankly, she didn't have the energy. What she hadn't mentioned to the doctor that taking a shower and getting dressed was the extent of how much she could push herself. She was lucky to make it to a few classes, and she sat out of the Spirit Squad practicesalthough she made sure she was still in charge. She was falling behind in her schoolwork and had trouble concentrating, let alone memorizing anything. It was going to be a long weekat the very least.

* * *

When Ellie finally awoke, her head ached, and her eyes were heavy. It took her a few moments to realize where she was, and to figure out that she had been sedated. She rubbed at her eyes until they cleared, then glanced around the room. Sean was dozing on a chair by her bed, his neck twisted and body uncomfortable. Ellie was touched by his devotion. She carefully removed her hand from his, and his eyes fluttered open.

"Hey," he said quietly, not sure of what kind of an Ellie to expect.

She bit her lip, then smiled tentatively. "Hi."

"How are you?" It was a loaded question, to say the least, and she took her time considering the answer.

"I am," she said finally. "Which I guess is something." She sat up in bed, staring at her hands. "Um, last night. Whatwhat happened? Did I ask to come here, or...?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. "I think Dr. Cavanaugh would be better off explaining it. She knows the whole story."

"I didn't ask her. I asked you," she said, no trace of aggression in her voice.

"You remember about your Dad?" She nodded. "I was stupid and I left you alone. I thought you'd stay asleep. The next thing I knew, the police had contacted me. Said they found you wandering about." He considered leaving out the part about the scalpel, but knew that if he did, and she later found out, she'd be upset. "A, uh, store owner called them. You shoplifted a scalpel." Her eyes widened, but she remained quiet. "You really don't remember?"

"You think I would want to talk about it if I did?" she asked, "God. I can't believe I did that."

"You were in shock."

"Big fucking deal. Doesn't excuse it. Doesn't make it any better." She groaned. "What about after I got here? Why did they knock me out, Sean?"

"I don't know. You were in with Dr. Cavanaugh for awhile. She couldn't tell me what happenedconfidentiality. All she said was that they were trying to get in touch with your mom. Then I came in here and I don't know any more than you do."

She thought for a moment, then a note of understanding glimmered in her eyes. "Did I have my bag with me, Sean?" He nodded, and she did as well. "Eleanor Barbie," she murmured, laughing without humour. He gave her a confused look, but she didn't elaborate, and a nurse entered the room before he had a chance to ask.

"Rip Van Winkle, awake at last," the nurse said. "I'll let Dr. Cavanaugh know you're upshe's doing some paperwork, but she'll probably want to duck in and chat." Ellie nodded, dreading the talk. She knew, without actually knowing, what had gone on the night before. Somehow her doll had been dragged into the conversation, and she'd said something upsetting enough that the doctor felt it best to make her sleep. It wasn't exactly a comforting thought.

"You should get some rest, Sean," Ellie said reluctantly. "Thanks for coming, though. But sleeping in a chair isn't exactly comfortable."

"I'll live. I want to be here." He hoped he was saying the right thing. He was saved from having to analyze it further when Dr. Cavanaugh rushed into the room, trying to appear as if she weren't rushing at all. "I'll go," he offered, standing up. "I'll just be in the waiting room, El." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, gave her hand one last reassuring squeeze, and then he was gone.

Ellie dared not look up at the doctor. "Eleanor Barbie?" she murmured.

"Yes." The answer was simple, and without judgment, but Ellie couldn't help glaring up at the ceiling with a pained laugh.

"Great," she murmured, then switched her gaze to the doctor. "It's not as sick as it sounds. Or looks. I wish I hadn't shown it to you, but I mean, it's not that bit a deal, is it?"

The doctor considered her response carefully. "Yes and no," she said. "You were clearly distressed last night. It's under that type of circumstances that one really can't control what one does. It did, however, give me some insight into what was going on. The way you were treating the doll was somewhat disturbing. It makes me think that maybe there are some things we haven't discussed in therapy. Sometimes secrets come out more easily during periods of great stress."

"It wasn't supposed to be creepy," Ellie said desperately. "I mean, I'm sorry I mentioned it. But I only used it when I wanted to cut. Instead of hurting myself, I could take it out on the doll instead."

"Ellie, you ripped its head off."

Ellie was stunned, and was silent for a moment, processing the information. "Oh."

The doctor was equally surprised at her reaction. "You don't remember what went on last night, do you?" she asked. "I assumed that because you mentioned the doll, you were aware of what happened." Ellie shook her head. "Then I guess we have a lot to discuss."


	6. Alone Again, Naturally

A/N:Went on a bit of a writing spree tonight and came up with this fairly quickly. It's not my most wonderful piece of work, but I'm at least semi-satisfied. If you couldn't tell, I'm having difficulty trying to resolve the doll issue and thus am prolonging my agony by avoiding it. More Paige to come in bits and pieces, again, it's the nature of the illness that causes it to be this way. Consider that a bit of a hint, maybe, as to what's yet to come.

* * *

Chapter VI - Alone Again, Naturally

"Hey, Hazel, wait up!" It was after school the next day, and Paige was feeling surprisingly energetic. She hoped the trend would continue. She'd gone for her ultrasound that morning (and hated it) and now she wondered if suffering through it had all been for nothing.

Hazel didn't slow down, so Paige sped up instead. "Hazel, I am SO ready for Spirit Squad. I found the coolest thing on the internet last night and I can't wait to try it. I know it's going to look awesome, here, I'll demonstrate"

"Oh, you're coming?" The words were innocent enough, but the tone was not, and Paige decided that now was not the time to show off a new cheer.

"Of course I'm coming," she said, trying to mask her suspicion. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I thought you were 'sick.'" The expression on Hazel's face revealed that she thought no such thing.

"I am. I mean, I was. I guess. I'm feeling better today though." Hazel rolled her eyes. "What? What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal, Paige?" Hazel asked, with a fake laugh. "Come on. Everyone can see through you. This is all just a scheme to get attention, and frankly, we're all sick of it. Get off your lazy ass, start exercisingyou're looking more than a little pudgyand when you've decided to become a normal person again, let me know. Maybe I'll actually care."

Paige was stunned. It was, to put it mildly, not at all what she'd been expecting. It took her a moment to recover, and when she did, she wasn't happy. "Hazel. What the hell are you trying to say? Why would I lie? Why would I skip Spirit Squad and sit around all day in my pj's because I don't have the energy to shower?"

Hazel shook her head. "You're pathetic, Michalchuk." She spotted Manny heading into the gym and hurried to catch up, leaving Paige behind.

"Fat," Paige muttered to herself. "Fat, lazy, and doing it for attention. Where does she get off saying that about me? I'm better than that." But her words were less than certain.

Frankly, she'd been wondering if she wasn't exaggerating it all in her mind. Clearly she didn't have mono, and what else could it be but an over-active imagination? She poked at her stomach and started toward the gym, then changed her mind. She couldn't face them, at least not until she'd gotten some of her pride backstarting with a fresh layer of makeup, and a crash diet. Ten pounds extrayes, ten pounds; she'd weighed herself that morningwas simply disgusting, and completely and utterly unacceptable.

But she was Paige Michalchuk, and if anyone could come out on top, she could.

* * *

"Someone's here to see you." Ellie's first inclination was to welcome Sean into the room, but then she realized Sean was already in the room. And suddenly the words took on a much more sinister meaning.

"Mom," she said quietly, without looking up, "how are you?" The words were obvious in their reluctance and insincerity. The bed shook and Ellie was aware of another body sitting on it. She scooted over closer to Sean, and begged him, in her mind, not to leave.

"I should give you two some privacy," he said. So much for her psychic abilities. He was gone in a flash, and she was cold and alone and vulnerable and she hated it.

"Um..." Ellie mumbled. "Bathroom break." She tugged at her mother's purse. "Tampon?" Her mother nodded, somewhat confused, and relinquished the bag, which Ellie quickly grabbed. She hopped out of bed and headed down the hall, praying no one would notice.

Perhaps there was a god after all.

She made it to the public bathroomher own was currently lockedand closed herself in a stall. She was hoping for razor blades or a knife, but of course her mother had no reason to carry those around. What she was certain of, however, was that somewhere in the monster of a bag, she would find herself some alcohol.

It was easier than expected. Her mother wasn't particularly skilled at hiding things. Luckily, she'd been clearly recovering from a hangover, which would mean that hopefully she wouldn't have the sense to mention to anyone that her daughter had disappearedthe same daughter who was underweight enough that she hadn't had a period in nearly a year.

She grabbed the flask and undid the cap, then gulped down a few sips, enjoying the way it burned at the back of her throat. It had been a long time since she'd tasted alcohol, and it was strong, but that made it all the more pleasant. She loved the taste in the same way that she found it disgusting, in the same way that she loved to cut but hated it too.

"Kill me," she whispered, under her breath. "Kill it all away." She gulped down the rest of the liquid.

Eleanor Nash was a mean drunk, much like her mother. When the nurses found her an hour later, she didn't hesitate to try and smack them. Much to their luck, Eleanor Nash was also a very clumsy drunk, as is typical of most under the influence. They didn't have a particularly difficult time dragging her back to her room and summoning Dr. Cavanaugh, who was understandably upset. The doctor dragged Mrs. Nash into the hallway for a good tongue-lashing only to realize that the woman was about as useless as her drunken daughter. She sent her to the waiting room instead, and within five minutes, Ellie's mother was asleep.

Dr. Cavanaugh returned to her office to contemplate just what she would do with Ellie, but a moment later, she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"What the FUCK is going on?" Sean spoke before she had a chance to invite him in.

"I'm sorry, I'm bound by law not to reveal"

"Fuck you. Fuck your confidentiality policy. What the FUCK did you do to my girlfriend?"

Dr. Cavanaugh sighed. "Sit down," she offered.

"I don't want to fucking sit down! I want some answers, damn it." He sat down anyway, scraping the chair across the floor until the only thing separating them was her flimsy desk. Oddly enough, she wasn't frightened. "Talk. Now." He left no room for interpretation.

She sighed once more. "We screwed up."

"Damn right you did."

"Can you please let me string together more than three words at a time?" she asked, her voice calm. He very grudgingly nodded. "We assumed that Ellie's mother could provide sufficient supervision under the circumstances. She's been under less supervision with no problems. Clearly we were wrong."

"What did she do to herself? They won't let me in the room," he said, calmer now than he had been.

She glanced up, surprised. "Family only," she muttered. "Must be new people. Strict with the rules. I'll get you in, no problem. Come on." She stood up and headed to the door, and he was too stunned to follow. "Come on," she said again. This time he obeyed.

"She's drunk," Dr. Cavanaugh continued. "She got a hold of her mother's vodka. We're observing her for signs of alcohol poisoning, but I don't think it will be a problem, it's more of a precaution than anything. We're keeping her strapped down lightly, mostly because she has the overwhelming urge to assault anyone that comes within a metre of her."

They arrived at Ellie's room and Dr. Cavanaugh led him in, no questions asked. Ellie was twisting under the restraints, and letting out an occasional giggle, but Sean was simply glad to see her alive.

"She'll sober up eventually," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "Until then, you can go home, change, and get some rest. And a shower. Please." She smiled, and he couldn't help but let out a short chuckle. "And in the meantime, I'll be going through her file and the nice pile of books that decorate my office. We've hit a bump in the road, but Sean, she'll be fine." She herded him out of the room and closed the door.

"And Sean, don't you have school to go to? I'm sure I could contact them, get them to send you some books..." He fled before she had a chance to finish.


	7. Remnants of a Deeper Purity

**A/N: **So the Dr. Cav thing sort of took on a mind of its own, straying away from the original topic, but in my experiences in therapy, it's often happened like thatkind of like a free writing exercise, where you just keep going and letting it take you wherever. So the end result surprised me, to be honest. Hopefully that's not a bad thing, but I've yet to decide my own opinion on this chapter. If nothing else, it's long.

Also, it's decided not to let me include dashes in my writing, so if you notice two words connected, mentally insert a dash. I've proof-read it twice, and used - instead, but it's easy to miss them.

* * *

**Chapter VII - Remnants of a Deeper Purity**

"I owe you an apology," Dr. Cavanaugh said.

"You don't owe me anything," Ellie replied immediately.

"I do. Part of my job, while you're in here, is to keep you safe," the doctor said. "I didn't do a very good job of that yesterday, and I should have known better. I've had a lot going on in my personal life, but that's no excuse. So, Ellie, I apologize."

Ellie considered protesting some more, but nodded instead, knowing that the doctor meant it, even if Ellie didn't agree.

"Now that we've taken care of that, we have some things to discuss," the doctor continued. "Primarily, what went on yesterday. I'd also like to find out more about Eleanor Barbie, if that's at all possible."

"It's just a stupid little thing," Ellie said. "There's nothing to say."

Dr. Cavanaugh tried to raise an eyebrow - she'd gotten better at it since Ellie's first stay in the hospital. "Ellie, you're talking to me. You know what I'm like. I won't believe it's not a big deal unless you can prove it to me. I'm kind of a bitch that way, remember?"

Ellie sighed. "Like I said, it was to stop me from..." She shrugged. "It's not as crazy as it looks."

"I never said it was crazy. You're putting words in my mouth," Dr. Cavanaugh said, with a smile. "How long have you had Eleanor Barbie?"

"A few weeks, I guess. I mean, I'd thought of it awhile ago, but it took me some time to get it right. I could have done it half-assed and just used a regular Barbie, but where would the fun be in that?" Ellie smiled for a moment too, then grew somber. "I don't want to talk about this. Dad's in the hospital. How I'm feeling, what I'm doing, is irrelevant. I should be doing a dozen other things right now."

"We've been over this, Ellie," the doctor reminded her gently. "And it isn't the doll that concerns me, exactly. What concerns me is that you're still feeling... violent toward yourself, shall we say?" Ellie looked down at her hands. "What bothers me most is that you neglected to mention that - or the doll - in our sessions. Can I ask why?"

"You just did."

"Ellie, we've been through this little routine before. I know you're trying to avoid the question. You're good at it. A natural. You know how to move the focus off yourself. Unfortunately, I can see through it. We've known each other for awhile. I know your tricks, and it's my job not to let you get away with them. I'm not going to punish you or yell at you. I'm just curious as to why you didn't bring it up in therapy."

Ellie hesitated a moment, then gave in. "I'm not allowed to feel that way," she said quietly. "Not anymore. I just - I just can't. I'm not allowed."

"Says who?"

"I'm just not. I've had months of therapy. I'm fine. I have to be."

"Ellie," the doctor said firmly. "Ellie, look at me please." Ellie rolled her eyes, but did so. "We've discussed a lot of this. You can't force healing into a time frame, and you can't just forget about the logical half of your brain. You wouldn't expect anyone else to be magically cured through a few months of therapy, would you?" She reluctantly shook her head. "Then sorry dear, but the same standards apply to yourself. You're special, but you're not that special." Ellie couldn't stop herself from smiling again.

"Gotcha," Dr. Cavanaugh said, smiling back. Ellie rolled her eyes, but once more failed to suppress the smile.

"Ellie, did you ever get to the point where you weren't having as much trouble with your urges? Or was that just you covering it up?"

Ellie shook her head. "I'm a good actor, but I'm not that good. Things were easier for awhile. I don't know exactly what changed. I wish I did."

The doctor nodded. "Have you cut?" The question sounded casual, but both knew its significance.

Once more, Ellie shook her head. "I wanted to," she said. "But I didn't."

"I'm glad," Dr. Cavanaugh said quietly. "What stopped you? I know that in the past, you probably would have given in, simply because you didn't have the tools you do know. But what was it that worked?"

Ellie bit her lip. "I knew I wouldn't get away with lying about it. That Sean would see - that he'd know."

"You couldn't have hidden it?"

"Sean would have seen," she said quietly.

The doctor nodded. "How long have you been sleeping together? We've never really touched on the topic. I know you aren't entirely comfortable with it. And I know you're likely responsible about it, which is why I didn't push you into discussing it before."

"I do NOT want to discuss sex with my therapist," Ellie said. "It's almost as bad as discussing it with my parents. Or a teacher. Or anyone, really. Sean and I are fine. We're not stupid, and we love each other."

"I assume you use protection." Ellie shifted her eyes downward. "Ellie?"

"I was on birth control for awhile," she said reluctantly. "Got too expensive."

"What about condoms? They're cheap. Free, if you want them. You just have to ask." Dr. Cavanaugh hadn't been expecting this particular conversation. "But I'm sure you've been using something...?"

"Well it's not as if I could get pregnant anyway," Ellie said defensively. "I mean, I haven't gotten my period in ages. I'm not exactly fat. Can we please drop it? My hour is up. You have other patients."

"They can wait for a few minutes," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "Ellie, this is serious. Why not use a condom?"

She squirmed around for a moment, uncomfortable under the doctor's scrutiny, before answering. "I - guys always say they like it better without. And I want Sean to... to like it." She was beet-red, and her fingernails had become a sudden source of fascination.

Dr. Cavanaugh sighed. "This discussion isn't over, Ellie. You're lucky. My next client is also a fairly high-risk patient, so you get off easy for now. But this topic is not over. I'm going to arrange for you to see a gynecologist while you're in here. A nutritionist, too - you're underweight." Ellie started to protest, but the doctor raised her hand before she could. "This isn't open for discussion, Ellie. You're a minor, and I want to do this while I still can. You need to take care of yourself, and if you won't, we'll have to do it for you." She left the room before Ellie had a chance to reply.

Ellie slumped down in her bed, glaring at the wall. She wondered, for the thousandth time, why Dr. Cavanaugh was always right. She hated having holes poked in her nice, safe universe - even if that nice safe universe was considered by everyone else to be hazardous to her health. She sighed, groaned, and wished she believed in voodoo. Revenge would have been awfully sweet.

* * *

Paige was heading for a corner when she heard a voice - Hazel's voice, to be exact - summoning her to their regular cafeteria table, a.k.a. the centre of the social universe. She very tentatively approached. 

"Paige, sit," Hazel said. "We were wondering where you were. Avoiding us or something?" The tone was friendly, and in fact, Hazel seemed to have completely forgotten their confrontation the previous day.

Paige was all too familiar with the tactic. She'd always used it - it was what the popular girls did. She'd never seen a problem with it until recently, but much as she tried not to, she was beginning to see just how shallow, how ridiculous it was. A fake friend was better than no friend, however, and she sat down without question.

"So, Paige, I'm sure by now you heard all about Ellie. Drama queen." Hazel rolled her eyes, but Paige narrowed hers.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh god, you didn't hear? She's back in the hospital. I hear she set herself on fire or something." Hazel laughed - actually, Paige thought, it was more of a cackle. A fake friend was better than no friend at all, she again reminded herself, and forced a smile.

"Uh, do you know why?"

"Oh come on," Hazel said. "The girl hardly needs an excuse. I mean, she cuts herself in the bathroom just so you, of all people, can walk in on her? She clearly wants pity, and popularity. Not that I blame her." She tossed her hair and let out another laugh-cackle.

"I just remembered... I'm on a diet," Paige said. "I should go. Catch up in the library or something. See you in English." She grabbed her tray and hurried away, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Why was it that suddenly gossip wasn't so entertaining to her? It had been sneaking up on hers - he always knew it wasn't exactly nice - but that had never stopped her before. She supposed it felt a little more real, lately. She knew that she was the butt of at least a few jokes, and it hurt. And true, even lately she had spread a few rumours, but not with the same malicious intent that Hazel seemed to be enjoying.

She sighed and dumped her food into the garbage, then headed for the pay phone, fishing a quarter out of her pocket. She shoved it into the slot and then dialed a number.

"Foxworth Medical Centre, how can I help you?"

"Um, could you tell me the, uh, status of Eleanor Nash?" Paige asked, crossing her fingers.

"I'm sorry, but we're not allowed to divulge information about our patients," the secretary replied, not sounding particularly sorry. "Visiting hours are from - "

"Okay, thanks," Paige said, before she could finish. She hung up the phone while the woman continued to babble on. Paige had accomplished precisely what she'd wanted - she'd gotten the secretary to unintentionally confirm that Ellie was indeed a patient. It wasn't what Paige had been hoping for.

Despite herself, Paige had grown to care about Ellie. Maybe the two had never been good friends, but that day when she found her in the bathroom had made her see a different side to Ellie - a real side. When she was being completely honest with herself, Paige knew that until that moment, she'd had a certain amount of jealousy for the other girl. Ellie had always seemed so self-assured, so uncaring about what anyone else thought - the same characteristics, Paige realized, that she herself tried to show, and tried even harder to obtain. It was comforting, in a way, to know that Ellie didn't possess them either, at least not to the extent that she demonstrated them.

Paige bit her lip and added one more thing to her mental to-do list - a mental to-do list that was already much too long. Even if Ellie sent her away, she wanted to at least attempt a visit.

The bell rang, and it wasn't until halfway into the next class that Paige realized she hadn't had any lunch.


	8. Can't Run Anymore

**A/N: **Not all together pleased with this chapterit's abrupt and wordy, I'm afraid. Still, I think it conveyed the general point I was trying to get across.

And for the record, all names of chapters, as well as the name of the story, are existing songs (except perhaps for the first chapter - but that was before I'd decided to do it this way).

* * *

**Chapter VIII - Can't Run Anymore**

There was a light knock on Ellie's door, and she looked up, expecting Dr. Cavanaugh. It was a nurse. "Visitor," she said.

"Great," Ellie muttered under her breath.

"You're not happy to see me?" Paige bounced into the room and plunked herself onto the bed.

"Oh. Paige."

"In the flesh!"

"I, uh, thought you were my mother," Ellie said. "Sorry."

Paige shrugged cheerfully. "How are you? Guess you didn't actually set yourself on fire." She covered her mouth. "Oops."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "It's high school, Paige. I know to expect rumours. You don't have to try and shield me from them because you think I'm too fragile or some such thing."

Paige nodded. "Sorry," she said. "But, seriously, how are you?"

"Fine."

Paige raised an eyebrow - and Ellie secretly cursed her for that particular ability. "Call me crazy, but I'm not inclined to believe you. Maybe it's none of my business, though." Ellie was surprised, and pleased, that Paige had stopped to acknowledge that, but the question had forced Ellie to concentrate on where she was and why - something she'd been thoroughly avoiding.

"I'm fine," Ellie said, biting her lip.

Paige bit hers as well. "Are you sure?" she asked finally.

Ellie looked away and clenched her teeth, trying to hold back tears. "Please drop it," she said softly. "I need this. I need to pretend I'm fine. I need to convince myself of it. Please." Paige hesitated, then nodded. She didn't know what was going on, or why Ellie was back in the hospital - she had no recent cuts on her, as far as Paige could tell - but she didn't want to be responsible for making things worse.

"Um, so you're not missing much work," Paige said. "I'd offer to bring it only I haven't been at school that much either."

Ellie forgot momentarily about her own difficulties. "You're still sick?" she asked. Paige nodded. "And the doctors have no idea what it is?"

"That doesn't mean I'm not sick," Paige said defensively.

Ellie smiled slightly. "I never said that. But from the sounds of things, someone else did. Not that you'd ever want advice from me, but a lot of people have a lot of worthless, uneducated opinions. There's nothing you can do about it - people will believe what they want. Getting mad won't do anything but make them defensive and more convinced that they're right." Paige raised an eyebrow.

"Since when have you been so philosophical?" Paige asked.

"Since when have you been able to pronounce philosophical?" Ellie countered with a smile. "Let alone know what it means."

Paige was ready to get upset when she realized that Ellie was more or less joking. "Cute, Nash," she said, rolling her eyes.

"My dad's in the hospital," Ellie said abruptly. "I went a little nuts. So they put me back in here."

"Oh." Paige silently chastised herself for the less-than-brilliant response. "Um, maybe it's none of my business, but is he... okay?"

"He's in a coma." She swallowed hard. "He'll probably lose his leg, at the very least. When – if - he wakes up, they don't know how much he'll remember." She swiped self-consciously at her eyes, surprised at what she was revealing, let alone to whom. She'd hardly even discussed it with Dr. Cavanaugh, and had difficulty broaching the topic with Sean.

"Ellie, El, I'm sorry," Paige said. On an impulse, she gave Ellie a quick hug, and while Ellie didn't return the gesture, she didn't fight her either.

"Um, I never said thank you," Ellie said, looking down at her hands.

Paige was puzzled. "For what?"

"The whole grade ten incident. I mean, part of me still wishes you hadn't found out. But I know my dad would be grateful. And part of me is, too."

"You're welcome," Paige said, realizing she was more mature than she'd ever really been. She knew instinctively that in this particular case, brushing off the thanks was not a good option.

"Anyway, um, nice of you to stop by." It was an obvious invitation to leave, but the words themselves were sincere.

"No problem," Paige said. "Can I come again?"

Ellie hesitated for a minute, then nodded. "I'm in here for a few more days. So yeah, company is nice. If you want."

"Company is nice," Paige agreed. "Company that won't tell me that my being sick is all in my head." She instantly regretted the words. "Anyway, ta!" She gave her best version of a reassuring smile and danced out of the room. It was all she could do not to collapse outside the door. She'd already been less than energetic, and the previous few minutes had been a little bizarre. It was a side to Ellie she'd never seen before, but it was also a side of herself that was becoming more of a presence every day. Paige couldn't decide whether or not that was a good thing, so instead she drove herself home, and went to bed.

Ellie couldn't understand just what it was about Paige that always made her want to pour her heart out. There was a certain level of comfort, she supposed - she knew that surprisingly, the girl could keep a secret. Up until recently, she'd also had the comfort of believing Paige would never be a real presence in her life, that she couldn't get close to her or use the information against her. Yet even to Paige, it was still difficult to talk. That had always been her problem, since the day her mother first started drinking. Since the time she walked in on her father with another womanthe incident that had haunted her for a long time, yet ultimately proved to her that he was human. Talking meant vulnerability, and vulnerability inevitably meant pain.

She hadn't mentioned her father the entire time she was in the hospital, not to Sean, and certainly not to Dr. Cavanaugh. She regretted mentioning him to Paige, but didn't want her to believe any other rumours that went around, and frankly, she felt like she owed her. Even though she still regretted the day Paige had walked in on her, she felt she owed her something. She hated that Paige knew, yet she still felt a sense of obligation. It was odd, and, she supposed, unnecessary, but that didn't change things.

She didn't realize she was crying until Sean crept into the room and wiped away her tears with his thumb. He wrapped his arms around her, coaxed her head against his shoulder, and they sat in silence, both wishing they could say something, both glad that the other didn't.

"I need him," Ellie whispered finally. "He's the strong one in the family. If he - " She buried her face in Sean's chest, unable to continue, and he could feel her tears dampening his shirt. He wanted to comfort her, but he couldn't. He wanted to promise that her dad would be all right, but he couldn't. And he wanted to promise her that she would be all right, but he couldn't, and that hurt most of all.


	9. Uninvited

**A/N**: Sorry this was a long time coming. I was working at it in bits and pieces, trying to figure it out as I went along. And I know you want more Paige, but the nature of the illness is that it is difficult to diagnose - I've already rushed a few things that reastically would take much longer. I am, however, developing a secondary issue with Paige that hopefully I'll be able to get into in more depth once it's established.

* * *

**Chapter IX - Uninvited**

Paige was at the end of her rope. The last of her tests had come back negative. Hazel had decided to ignored her, and she'd been too exhausted to finish the day at school, let alone go to Spirit Squad. Plus, when she stepped on the scale, she'd discovered she was up another pound and a halfand was very close to officially being overweight.

She was sitting on the bathroom floor, head in her hands, when she caught sight of it, and she couldn't help but wonder if it would work.

Her razor was a girly pink, her shaving cream berry-scented. But it couldn't hide the harshness of the silver blades, and images of Ellie flashed through her head. She reached out and picked it up, passing it from hand to hand and examining every inch of it. She knew she was asking for trouble, that she was already beyond a safe zone. But she was hypnotized by the idea of somehow escaping the hell that had descended upon her without permission.

Hands trembling, she ran it across her ankle, and was surprised when she felt nothing. She glanced down and realized she'd barely left a white mark, let alone broken the skin. She gritted her teeth and pressed harder, and in a moment, her fingers were covered in blood. Her stomach turned, and it was all she could do to keep herself from being sick. She knew immediately that it had been the wrong thing to do, that it could never do for her what it did for Ellie, and in a way, that made things harder. She rinsed the razor, wrapped her ankle, pulled on some long socks, and returned to her room. She flopped on the bed, buried her head under the pillow, and let out a long moan. She wanted to scream, but even that seemed too exhausting.

* * *

Ellie, with Dr. Cavanaugh's aid, had reluctantly persuaded Sean to return to school. It was the first day in her hospital stay that he hadn't been there, and even though she knew it was right for him, she was lonely as hell. Her loneliness, however, did not make her any more pleased to see her mother. This time, Dr. Cavanaugh followed her into the room, to mediate, Ellie supposed. Ellie very pointedly looked away.

"Ellie?" Dr. Cavanaugh said. "Can you look at me, please?"

Ellie hesitated, jaw set in defiance, but finally looked at her. "I have no interest in speaking to that woman," she said, her voice cold. She didn't look at Mrs. Nash to judge her reaction - she simply wasn't interested.

"Well, she'd like to speak with you," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "And I think you'll be interested in what she has to say."

"Yeah, right," Ellie muttered, but quieted down when the doctor gave her a warning look.

"Your father's being transferred back here," Mrs. Nash said uncertainly. "Um, tomorrow morning. They're going to get him on the plane in a few hours - the whole time difference thing - and he'll be here soon." Ellie had a million questions, but she refused to ask them. She wouldn't give her mother the satisfaction.

Mrs. Nash continued, in the same uncertain rush of words. "Um, they're willing to release you into my custody for an hour so you can see him as long as I'm sober and I get you back here after."

"You can tell Mrs. Nash that I have nothing to say to her," Ellie said to the doctor, her voice ice-cold. "I won't go anywhere with her, and I'm not interested in speaking or listening to her now or ever." She kept her eyes on Dr. Cavanaugh, ignoring her mother's crestfallen expression.

Dr. Cavanaugh bit her lip. "I think it would be best if Ellie and I had a little chat alone now," she said finally. "Thank you for coming, Mrs. Nash. If you need help finding your way out, Melissa at the front desk will give you directions." Ellie didn't relax or switch her gaze until her mother had left the room and had enough time to be out of hearing distance.

"Why did you bring her here?" she demanded.

"She's your mother."

"And you know damn well how I feel about her. She's the same woman who got me drunk right in the hospital, remember?" Ellie said, clearly upset.

Dr. Cavanaugh remained calm. "If I remember correctly, Ellie, you were the one who found the alcohol. You were the one who drank it. Which means that you were the one who chose to get drunk. Yes, we're responsible for your well-being. But that doesn't mean you can blame everyone else for your choices."

Ellie shook her head. "I'm not doing this right now."

"Then when?"

She bit her lip. "Look, this has been fun and all, but I'd like to leave the hospital now, please."

Dr. Cavanaugh sighed. "Ellie, do I really have to respond to that?"

Ellie closed her eyes. "I don't want to talk anymore."

"Because you're getting too close to the issue at hand?" Dr. Cavanaugh asked softly, her eyes sympathetic.

"I'm fine. I'm dealing."

"Talk to me, Ellie! You can't deal with any of this until you acknowledge it. If you don't talk about it, you're just going to torture yourself."

"Don't," Ellie said, but her voice was as weak as her resolve.

"Tell me about your dad, Ellie," Dr. Cavanaugh said with gentle insistence.

"He... he's always been the strongest one in the family," Ellie said, not looking at her. "Even if Mom - Mrs. Nash and I were falling to pieces, he was fine. He made everything okay. It wasn't fair to him, I know that. But he broke his leg once, and I was freaking out and he was the one comforting me when it should have been the other way around. Except once. But almost always, he's done what I couldn't."

"No one's perfect," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "But you discovered that from the sounds of things. What was the once?"

Ellie hesitated before answering. "He was with another woman for awhile. I caught him. I wanted to lie for him but he wouldn't let me. He told mo - HER. Maybe that's why he hasn't divorced her. He felt - feels - guilty, I guess." The doctor nodded. "He was so pissed at her when he found out I was in here the first time," Ellie said. "He tried not to show it. But I knew. It was kind of sweet, I guess. I don't know what I'd do without him."

"You'll cope," Dr. Cavanaugh said quietly. "It's all you can do. It'll hurt, and you'll want to die or scream or hate the world. But you'll cope."

"He deserves more than that," Ellie said. "Okay? He deserves more than me coping. He deserves the world falling apart. He deserves my life becoming an utter disaster because he means so much to me. He..." She shook her head.

"He wouldn't want you to fall apart," Dr. Cavanaugh finished. "Ellie, it's okay. We'll talk about something else for awhile. Little steps at a time." Ellie gave an approving nod. "The other day, you stole your mother's alcohol. You knew, obviously, that you wouldn't get away with it - that we would find you. Can you explain to me why you did it anyway?"

"I... It hurts," Ellie said finally. "A lot. I just wanted to kill that, even just for a little while. And facing HER... I couldn't."

"Your mother's been in therapy," Dr. Cavanaugh said, keeping a careful eye on Ellie, who didn't react. "She gave me permission to tell you that - to tell you anything you wanted to know, although I haven't been her therapist, and don't have a lot of knowledge about her case."

"Good for her," Ellie said, her voice cold.

"She's trying. And what you do is up to you. I can understand why you feel about her the way you do. She made your life hell for a long time. But alienating her, especially right now when you both share the same pain over your dad - I don't know if that's a good idea, Ellie."

"She hit me. She called me a slut. You really want me to go back to that?"

"I want you to talk to her. Supervised. She's still technically your legal guardian - especially with your father incapacitated."

"Don't talk about him like that."

"Sorry," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "But Ellie, facts are facts. I can't force you into anything. I won't try. I can make a promise. If you speak to your mother, really give it a chance, and things go badly, I will be in your corner if you decide to file for emancipation. We've discussed it before, and I never really gave an opinion on the idea. So, that's my offer - take it or leave it."

Ellie didn't respond.

"Okay, think about it, then. I get that you're not happy with her. I don't blame you. I probably don't understand just how angry you are - the fact that you're not willing to be with her, even if it means seeing your father - makes that perfectly clear. You're probably right. She doesn't deserve another chance. But like it or not, she's your mother. She loves you, even if she doesn't always know how to show it. So please, don't immediately dismiss the idea of giving her one more chance." Dr. Sutherland stood up. "Session's over for now. You can let me know your answer next time." Ellie's eyes followed her as she left, but her thoughts had already drifted away. Her love for her father, or her disgust with her mother - which one was stronger? When she was honest with herself, she knew that as much as she wanted to choose her father, she didn't know.


	10. The Carnival is Over

**A/N: **Notice that almost every chapter has an author's note mentioning how unsatisfied I am with my own work? Well, this one will be no exception. Self-deprecation is an art at which I excel. This chapter was kind of tossed together and hurried along, because I wasn't exactly sure where to go with it. Most of the Ellie stuff that happened was unfamiliar territory, and I think that was reflected - I rushed through it because I had no idea what should happen. A bit more Paige than usual, though, to make up for it.

* * *

**X - The Carnival is Over**

Paige knocked tentatively at the guidance counsellor's door. Sauve had sent a note asking her to pay a visit during second period, and Paige was doing just that. Surely the counsellor couldn't have found out about the little cutting experiment, right?

"Come on in," Sauve said. Paige did so and took a seat, perching at the edge of her chair.

"Look, Ms. Sauve," she said. "I know it was stupid and I'm not going to do it again, okay? It didn't even work." She'd quickly discovered that paranoia accompanied self-harm, and she understood a little better what Ellie had gone through - what she still went through.

The counsellor gave her a puzzled look. "Paige, I don't know what you're talking about, but I think I should. Can you elabourate?"

Paige mentally slapped herself. No way was she getting out of this particular situation without a fight. She sighed and yanked down her sock to expose her ankle. Sauve raised an eyebrow, waiting for Paige to explain. "It was stupid and impulsive," she said. "And it didn't work. At all. I'm not going to do it again. I practically threw up after I did it." She maintained eye contact, hoping it would help convince Sauve of her honesty.

"You'll come back and see me," Sauve said. "Just to check in. I believe that you believe you won't do it again. I just want to make sure you don't change your mind. But I called you in here to discuss your schoolwork. Your teachers are concerned with how far you've fallen behind."

"I know I'm a little behind," Paige said. "But I'm working hard, honest. I'm not slacking off or anything. I don't think it's fair to take off points for it being late, if that's what this is about."

"It's not," the counsellor said quietly. "Paige, we're two-thirds of the way through the semestre. You're barely past two weeks' worth of work in some of your courses. I think you need to consider dropping a few - lightening your workload. Otherwise, you're not going to end up able to get credit for any of them."

Paige shook her head. "I need these courses. I need them all to graduate next year. I'll get caught up somehow. I'll just work harder. I'm still recovering from being sick or whatever, but when I have more energy, it'll be easy to catch up."

"Are you feeling any better now than when you were first ill?" Sauve asked gently.

"Well no, but... I need these courses. You don't understand. I need them."

"I can't force you to drop any. I can only suggest it. Paige, a lot of teenagers take an extra year of high school. It's not the worst thing in the world to do. You don't have to decide today. But it's something I really want you to considerand I suggest doing it sooner rather than when it's too late. Come back in two days, fifth period, okay? We can discuss it further then, and I can make sure you're all right." It wasn't really a question, and Paige didn't bother protesting. She gave a curt nod and headed to her next class, wishing she'd never gotten sick in the first place. This was NOT the life of a social queen.

* * *

Much to her dismay, Ellie was escorted to the office of a certain Dr. Adams, OB/GYN. She wasn't looking forward to the visit. The only thing that redeemed the doctor was the fact that she was female. Ellie absolutely would have refused to even speak, had the doctor been male.

Dr. Adams introduced herself and offered Ellie a seat on a regular chair, much to Ellie's surprise. "Today we're just going to have a little chat," she said. "We can discuss whether or not you're comfortable enough to have a quick examination now, or if it would be better to put it off to another day." Ellie didn't respond. "First off, do have any concerns about your health?"

"No."

"Relax," she said gently. "I don't bite. And this isn't as bad as most people assume it will be. Dr. Cavanaugh sent down your file, but if you'd rather talk to me about it, I don't have to read it."

"It's fine. Easier." A nervous Ellie translated into one and two word answers.

The doctor nodded and studied the file for a moment. "You and your boyfriend are sexually active?" Ellie nodded. "How long have you been sleeping together?"

Ellie thought for a moment. "Six months, maybe."

"Says here you haven't been using birth control. That you were at first, but that you stopped. I think that's something we need to discuss."

"It's not like I'm going to get pregnant," Ellie said defensively.

"Put on a few pounds and you might. It's a dangerous habit to get into. You need to protect yourself if you're going to have sex. You're a smart girl, Ellie. You know that. And from what I hear, Sean's a good guy. He's not going to hate you for wanting to be safe." She gave Ellie a searching look, and Ellie dropped her gaze. "Talk to him. If he's worth his salt, your well-being will be most important to him in this whole situation. And if it's not, you shouldn't be with him at all."

Ellie wiggled uncomfortably in the chair, but finally gave a grudging nod. "Okay. Fine."

"Okay," the doctor said. "Now, did you have any questions you'd like to ask me, before we proceed? I've heard just about anything, so don't be scared to ask."

Ellie shook her head. "Public education system," she said with a slight smile. It was the first time in their appointment that she'd relaxed enough to joke.

Dr. Adams let out a healthy chuckle. "Shall I assume you'd rather not have an examination done for today?" she asked. Ellie again nodded. "I do want to do a few blood tests and a urinalysis, then. But they're pretty non-invasive."

Ellie cooperated, glad to have gotten off lightly, and it wasn't long before she was escorted back to her room in the hospital, feeling surprisingly relieved. She'd been expecting much worse. Unfortunately, Dr. Cavanaugh arrived just as quickly to spread the joy.

"I'll get right to the point," she said, barely stopping to say hello. "Have you considered my proposal?"

"Yes," Ellie said.

"And...?"

"And my answer is yes and no. I have an alternate offer. I will speak to Mrs. Nash, and listen to what she has to say, but only if someone else takes me to see Dad. And that if she's rotten to me, you keep your end of the bargain."

Dr. Cavanaugh contemplated for a moment. "Okay," she said finally. "On one condition. You call her 'Mom' or 'Mommy' or even 'Mother' if you must, but not Mrs. Nash. That's cold, Ellie, even for you."

Ellie took longer to answer than even Dr. Cavanaugh expected, but her love for her father won out this time. "Fine. When can I see him?"

"Tomorrow. You'll talk to your mother first." Ellie started to protest, but the doctor stopped her. "I know you Ellie. I know you keep your promises IF you promise something, but I also know you're damn good at wiggling your way out of things. I'll arrange it. I wasn't supposed to have a session with you right now, anyway, but I wanted to see if you'd made a decision." She offered a brief smile, then left the room, leaving Ellie who was still working through the conversation in her mind. She wished, for the millionth time, that she wasn't in the hospital - and therefore, that Dr. Cavanaugh couldn't control her life.


	11. Red Magic Marker

A/N: So sorry for the long delay - I've had a lot going on. Got my own computer (old, but lovely) and had to get things working and files transferred, plus I haven't had much of a writing bug. And my cough illness has been acting up, so that wasn't fun. Wrote the first part of this ages ago, but hopefully it won't sound too disjointed.

Thanks, as always, for the feedback.

* * *

**XI - Red Magic Marker**

Paige was drowning her sorrows in chocolate when she realised that she'd already made her decision. The guidance counsellor had regrettably been correct - there was a snowball's chance in hell that she'd finish any of her courses if she tried to work on all of them. She supposed she should be relieved, but instead, she was just miserable. Her life was crumbling apart before her, and all she could do was sit around and get fat.

She glared down at the bowl of chocolate chips that was rapidly disappearing, then poked at her stomach.

"One chocolate, two chocolate, three chocolate, four. Watch the fat cheerleader crash through the floor," Paige muttered. She dumped the rest of the chocolate into her mouth, then poked once more at her stomach, harder this time. She groaned softly and wished she'd left the chocolate chips in the bag, where they belonged.

She hauled herself up off the floor and into her deliciously pink bathroom (newly renovated since Dylan had left for university). She turned on the tap, splashed water on her face, and cursed as she watched her cheeks jiggle.

The scale was practically calling her name, and even as she stepped on it, she knew it was a bad idea. Her heart sank when an ugly 146.5 pounds stared back at her. She frantically threw off her clothes, and although they made a difference, she was only down half a pound.

"This is NOT happening," she muttered to herself. "Not, not, not. No way." She groaned and stepped on the scale once more. The number didn't change. She wanted desperately to go for a long run, and then an extra-long workout at the gym, to be repeated every day for the next year, but the fact was, she was exhausted. She couldn't seem to stop herself from gorging on food, and she couldn't exercise.

She knew it was stupid - more so, even, than cutting had been - but she couldn't help the statistics on eating disorders from flowing into her head. She knew her friends wouldn't care that much what she weighed - they'd always accepted Terri, after all - but then again, she remembered a few choice remarks that had been made behind the other girl's back.

She sank to the floor, her head in her hands, and tentatively glanced up at the counter. Her (pink, of course) toothbrush was staring back at her - and it was that which finally convinced her. She wouldn't risk ruining her manicure, but a toothbrush handle? Way too easy.

Before she had a chance to change her mind, she grabbed it and crawled over next to the toilet. Being so up close and personal was almost enough to make her gag as it was. She didn't quite know what she was doing, and she pondered for a moment before shoving the toothbrush handle in her mouth.

Paige wasn't exactly the bravest person in the world. The first jab barely made it an inch into her mouth before she chickened out. She was close to giving up when she made one desperate push, and in an instant, her stomach turned inside out.

It took her by surprise, and half of her vomit missed the toilet entirely. She gagged again just looking at the mess. She coughed a few more times, then wiped her mouth and let out a feeble, "Mommy?" before pulling herself together.

She groaned, but forced herself to dispose of the mess after taking a few tiny sips of water. It didn't take her long to get everything (including herself) cleaned up, and light a few candles to dispel the acidic stench.

She returned to her bedroom, flopped stomach-down onto the bed, and cried.

* * *

Ellie was alone and daydreaming when Ms. Kwan entered the room. Sean had been kept after school to catch up on work, so she wasn't expecting anyone for another hour. She jumped when the teacher cleared her throat.

"Um, hi," she said, feeling awkward in her hospital gown - and even more so in a bed on the mental health ward.

The teacher gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm probably not someone you were expecting to see. But I thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing."

Ellie bit her lip. "I don't have my schoolwork done. I'm sorry. I'll try to get caught up soon." She assumed that was why the teacher was really there.

Ms. Kwan shook her head. "Don't worry about it, Ellie. I'm not concerned about that - you're an excellent student. I'm concerned about you."

"Oh," Ellie said. "Oh. Um, I'm fine. Thanks." She looked down at her hands.

"I heard about your father," the teacher continued. "I'm sorry. That can't be easy. My husband - anyway, you don't need to hear my experiences."

"It's okay," Ellie said. "It's just nice of you to stop by." She offered a tentative smile. Despite being slightly on edge, she was touched that the teacher had cared enough to come.

Ms. Kwan nodded. "Um, would you be comfortable if I spoke with your doctor for a moment? Not about your treatment of course. She wouldn't be allowed to tell me anything confidential of that nature."

Ellie shrugged. "Go ahead. I don't mind."

The teacher nodded again. "Okay, well, I'll see you later, Ellie. I hope things go well for you."

Ellie thanked her and the teacher soon left, once more allowing Ellie's mind to drift. It wasn't long before she'd forgotten all about Ms. Kwan's visit.

Dr. Cavanaugh entered the room a few minutes later and sat down. "Your mother's here. You ready?" Ellie shook her head, then nodded. "Which is it?" the doctor asked.

"I'm ready."

Dr. Cavanaugh poked her head out into the hallway, and a moment later, an uncertain Mrs. Nash entered the room. She approached Ellie to give her a hug, but her daughter moved away before she had a chance to make contact. Mrs. Nash sat down instead.

"Your dad made it here fine," she said, her voice rising nervously. "Um, he looks good. The doctors say he might wake up any time now." She smiled hopefully.

"Good," Ellie said, her voice cold. She made no effort to smile.

"I miss you..." Mrs. Nash said, more uncertain than ever. Ellie just shook her head. "I've been doing real good in therapy," she continued. "When Sean called me... I had slipped up. But that was the first in a long time. And I'd take it back if I could."

"You can't."

"Ellie..." Mrs. Nash said desperately.

"No, Mother, it's not that easy. You can't just stop drinking for a week and expect it to make up for everything. You can't suck up to me like you used to. I'm not a child anymore. I'm the naive six-year-old you twisted around your finger. And I'm not stupid. You can't just expect me to take your word for something, or to forgive you every single time you fuck up and have a drink. It doesn't work that way, Mother."

Dr. Cavanaugh started to speak, but Mrs. Nash was quicker. "I thought you might understand," she said, the calmest she'd been since she'd arrived. "I thought you might understand, since you're in here because you're battling an addiction. I hoped you could try and forgive me. I guess I hope that someday, you will."

"Don't you DARE compare yourself to me. Don't you DARE take that holier-than-thou attitude, Mother. You're nothing like me. You had responsibilities. I was a child, Mom." She broke off, close to tears, then forced herself to keep speaking. "Okay? I was just a child." She swallowed hard. "You should have been the one taking care of me, dealing with it when I threw up or made a mess. You should have been setting a good example so I didn't have to turn to cutting or alcohol or drugs. You shouldn't have been squandering all our money on booze and forcing me to find part-time, underpaid, HORRIBLE jobs just so I could keep eating." She wiped at her eyes, and her shoulders slumped, the fight gone from her body.

Mrs. Nash had closed her eyes, and Ellie was surprised to see that she, too, was crying. "I know," she said. "I know, Ellie. And if I could take it back - "

" - You can't." Ellie sighed. "I think you should go now." Dr. Cavanaugh gave her a hard look, which she ignored.

Mrs. Nash started to protest, but stopped herself. "Okay," she said quietly. "But... would it be okay if I came again some other time?"

Ellie hesitated, then nodded, surprising everyone in the room. "Yes," she said. "I think that would be okay."


	12. Labyrinth

**Chapter XII - Labyrinth**

"So, that blinking, that twitching... that doesn't mean anything?" Ellie asked. Sean squeezed her hand, but she barely noticed.

"No," Dr. Cavanaugh said quietly. "It means he's alive, and that's important, but it doesn't mean anything else."

Ellie bit her lip. "I want to go," she said abruptly. Sean caught her in a hug, but she quickly shrugged it off.

"Okay," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "We'll go. If you want to come back some other time, let me know and I'll arrange it." Ellie was already halfway out the door.

Dr. Cavanaugh guided Ellie back to her room, but to Ellie's surprise, took a seat when she got there. "Sean, some privacy, please?" she requested. Sean left the room somewhat reluctantly after giving Ellie a quick kiss and a reassuring glance.

"Let me cut to the chase," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "We need your bed, and I think you're ready to leave. But I'm not prepared to release you just yet. I'm not going to have Sean be responsible for you, nor am I comfortable leaving you to fend for yourself. Until yesterday, I fully planned to keep you here for much longer than was necessarily required. However, we have a few options."

"I am NOT living with my mother," Ellie said immediately.

"No," the doctor agreed. "You're right. You're not. I'd rather send you off on your own than have you live with your mother at the current time. I think your relationship with her is important, but I also don't trust her right now much further than I could throw her."

"Then who? Elaine?"

"That option was explored, but again, not something I'm comfortable with. Ellie, are you aware that one of your teachers - Ms. Kwan - spoke with me yesterday?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?" she asked, a little slow figuring things out.

"Ms. Kwan offered, of her own accord, to be responsible for you, should the need arise. She's apparently quite attached to you - you impressed her, and not just because of your grades. Ultimately, it's your choice. You can stay here for a while longer, you can go live with Ms. Kwan for awhile, or you can suggest something else. You certainly don't have to decide right away." Ellie nodded slowly, surprised, but rather pleased at the proposition.

"And she's actually allowed to do that? She wants to?" Ellie asked doubtfully.

"She cleared it with the principal, as well as consulting a lawyer, and your mother agreed with it as well," Dr. Cavanaugh explained. "She came to me with the idea, and not vice versa - in fact, she'd gone to the trouble to clear it beforehand, so all I had to do was take the offer to you. She had no idea it was necessary, and of course she's not aware of the specifics of your situation since they're confidential, but she wanted to make sure you had some place to go if you needed it."

Ellie chewed thoughtfully on her cheek, pondering it for a moment. "Okay," she said abruptly. "I'll try it, anyway.

"Good," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "I hoped you would. I think it'll be good for you. I've known Ms. Kwan for awhile, myself - I met her through Chantel, your Ms. Sauve. I think you two will be a good fit until we get something else worked out. And, of course, she wanted to let you know that Sean is welcome there." Ellie smiled. Dr. Cavanaugh had become quite skilled at procuring at least one smile per session - and she very rarely gave up without one. She believed that therapy had to have at least a little humour or pleasantness to be helpful, and Ellie very much appreciated that philosophy, even if at times it was dark humour.

"Okay, then," Dr. Cavanaugh continued. "She'll drop by tomorrow, just so you two can have some time to discuss things, and if all goes as planned, I'll release you into her care the next morning."

"Okay," Ellie said, still smiling ever so slightly. It was nice to feel wanted - especially by a responsible female figure.

* * *

"Paige, sweetie, don't forget your doctor's appointment," Rose called up the stairs.

"Mom, I won't." The truth was, Paige had been forgetting more than a few things lately, appointments included. Her mother was getting ready to leave for work, and Paige had given in and decided to take the day off school. She was supposed to meet with Dr. Sandford - again - later that morning.

"And you're sure that you don't need me to drive?" Rose asked anxiously.

"Just go. You're going to be late for work." Paige groaned and pulled the blankets back over her head and was relieved when she heard her mother close the front door and pull away in her car. "Finally," Paige muttered. Her mom had made her breakfast in bed, and Paige hadn't had the heart to refuse. She trudged into the bathroom and made quick work of the meal, trying to vomit away the guilt that threatened her every time she bent over the toilet.

She couldn't look herself in the mirror anymore, and she wondered if it was that way for Ellie - if she was walking down the same dangerous path that Ellie had wandered, even if their poison had a different label. She didn't want to end up in a hospital - she knew that much - but she didn't want to BE, either, at least not the way she was at that moment.

She pulled on the first shirt and pair of pants that she found, not particularly caring that they didn't match. She didn't bother with makeup, it simply seemed like a waste of energy, and energy was much too precious a commodity as of late. She briefly contemplated walking the five minutes to Dr. Sandford's office, but the prospect seemed simply too daunting, so she found the keys and hopped in the family van, eyes still half-blurry with sleep.

When she made it to the parking lot, she realized that it was a miracle she hadn't killed someone. She couldn't remember the trip, couldn't remember stopping at the stoplights or which turns she'd taken or how much traffic had passed her by. She sat in the car for a moment and realized she must look like a wreck, coming to her senses about the whole makeup issue. If you couldn't feel like a star, at least you could look like one, but somehow she couldn't persuade herself to pull out a mirror and lip-gloss. She groaned and made her way to the office.

She'd gotten the first appointment of the day, which meant that she was allowed in almost immediately. She'd done it on purpose - sitting for two or three hours wasn't exactly a good way to preserve her energy. She hated the fact that she always had to keep that in mind, always had to plan around what she could handle while others were free to do as they wanted, but it was a fact of her life that she could no longer deny.

"Come on in," Dr. Sandford said, interrupting her thoughts. Paige nodded and obeyed, coat slung over her arm. The day had been surprisingly warm, and to Paige's relief, it seemed that spring was finally on its way.

"How are you doing?" the doctor asked.

"I'm still exhausted. I still hurt all over. And I still hate not knowing what's going on," Paige said quietly.

Dr. Sandford nodded and flipped through her file. "Your bloodwork is fine. All your tests came back normal - no abnormalities in your ultrasound, either. That's a good sign, at least."

"But it still doesn't tell you what's wrong with me."

"No, you're right," the doctor said. "I've done about everything I can. I'm going to send you to an internal specialist just to make sure there's nothing I'm missing. Otherwise, we'll have to make a few assumptions and see if treating them helps."

That wasn't particularly comforting to Paige. "What kind of assumptions?" she asked.

"Some of your symptoms point toward depression. Or, it's possible that you're still recovering from a bad flu."

"I'm not depressed," Paige said. "I think I would know if I was. I mean, I'm not outrageously happy, but that's because I'm sick."

"Hmm," the doctor said, and as annoyed as Paige was, that was the only response she could force out of her. "I'll have my secretary call and make an appointment for you with the internist," Dr. Sandford continued. "You should hear from their office soon."

"Why can't I just call up myself and save everyone the hassle?"

The doctor laughed although Paige saw nothing that was particularly amusing. "To see a specialist, you need a referral from your family doctor - that's me. Otherwise, we'd have people seeing internists for constipation." Paige raised an eyebrow. "Come back and see me in a week or two," the doctor finished, then buried herself in her files. Paige knew it was a dismissal, and, reluctant as she was, she left the office.

She sighed and vowed to stop by the craft store later that day in search of supplies for more than one voodoo doll.


	13. Sweet Surrender

A/N: Yes, I'm alive. Please don't kill me.

* * *

**Chapter XIII - Sweet Surrender**

Ellie was still in her pajamas when she heard a knock on the door. She looked up just in time to see a fully clothed Ms. Kwan entering her room. She yanked the blankets up over herself.

"Sorry," the teacher said. "I should have thought this out a little better."

"Um, don't worry about it," Ellie replied. She laughed nervously. "They're just pj's, right?"

"Right," Ms. Kwan agreed. "Anyway, I thought I'd stop by to say hello before going to school." Ellie nodded. "I'm a morning person, anyway," she said. "The kind that everyone loves to hate." Ellie nodded again. "And obviously you're not. Sorry."

"It's fine," Ellie said, her brain catching up. "I mean, thanks. For stopping by. And for wanting to help me. I mean, letting me live with you?" She smiled tentatively. "It's big. Thank you."

"It'll be my pleasure," Kwan said. "It'll be nice to have someone around the house again." Ellie wrinkled her brow in confusion. "My husband passed away last summer," she said quietly. "The cancer came back."

"Sorry," Ellie said. "I didn't realise. I don't really hear about a lot of these things. I'm kind of outside of the gossiping social circle or whatever. I mean, not that it's gossip, but--"

"--Ellie, relax," the teacher said, chuckling. "It's okay. I didn't tell many people. I know most of my students aren't particularly fond of me and I'm not about to give them a way to hurt me. Teachers are human, too."

Ellie nodded. "I know," she said. "Anyway. Thanks. And Sean's going to take care of Bueller, I think, so that shouldn't be a problem either."

"Bueller...?" she asked.

"Oh. My--our--ferret," Ellie said. "I bought him when I first moved in with Sean." She smiled, having completely forgotten that a moment before, she'd been positively mortified. "He's kind of our baby."

Kwan smiled. "A ferret? Why doesn't that surprise me, Ms. Nash?" She shook her head in amusement, and Ellie couldn't suppress yet another smile, although a hint of darkness passed over her eyes.

"How's your dad doing?" the teacher asked.

"Um, they're going ahead with surgery," she said, biting her lip. "They told me last night. They, uh, need to amputate." She cleared her throat self-consciously.

Ms. Kwan nodded. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice gentle. Ellie nodded. "Ellie, I want you to know I'm not trying to replace anyone in your life," she said. "But I am here for whatever you need. So, whatever you're comfortable with, that's what I'll do. If you want to talk with me or confide in me about anything, I'm open to that. And if you don't, that's okay too."

Ellie nodded slowly. "Thanks," she said. "Really. And I don't know yet what I'm looking for, but when I know..." She nodded again.

"Anyway, I should get going," Kwan said. "I just thought I'd stop by and check in with you now that I know you accepted my offer. I'll come by again later, okay?" With that, she left, and Ellie could do nothing more than mull over the conversation, still only half-awake.

------------

Paige didn't bother dragging herself to school until right before fifth period--or, rather, right before her appointment with Sauve. The counsellor's door was open, so she didn't bother knocking. She sat down immediately and didn't bother with her normal greeting.

"Am I depressed?" she asked.

Sauve looked up from the file she'd been reading. "I'm sorry?"

"Am I depressed?" Paige asked again.

The counsellor was at an utter loss for words. "Well, Paige," she said finally. "Is there a reason the question is in your mind? Have you been sad lately? Crying, maybe? Uninterested in your regular activities?"

"Everyone thinks I'm depressed," she said. "Well everyone but Ellie, and of course Hazel who thinks I'm making it all up. But they don't think I'm sick, they just think I'm depressed."

"And what do you think?" she asked cautiously.

Paige shook her head. "I know my body. Or I thought I did. I mean, yeah, I cry sometimes, but that's because I can't DO anything. I started off sick and then got depressed, not the other way around."

"Who is this 'everyone' insisting you're depressed?" Sauve asked.

"Ms. Kwan," Paige said. "And Dr. Sandford--my family doctor. I think she thinks I'm crazy."

"Depression doesn't mean you're crazy," Sauve said.

"Ugh, that's not what I mean," Paige protested. "She thinks I'm making it all up. I don't know anymore. Maybe I am."

"Do you really think that?" Sauve asked.

Paige shrugged. "No," she admitted. "But crazy people don't think they're crazy, do they? I mean, they've done all the tests in the world. I'm not physically ill. It doesn't matter what my brain is telling me, I'm not sick and I guess I need to just... I don't know. Kick myself into gear."

"Not all illnesses fit into distinct categories, Paige," the counsellor said. "Not all illnesses can be tested for. Don't give up on yourself. Trust your instincts. If you think you're ill, then you're probably right."

"You're the only one who believes that," she said. "Well, one of the only ones."

"Who else believes you?" Sauve asked.

"My mom," Paige said. "And Ellie."

Sauve raised an eyebrow. "You've been talking with Ellie?"

"Yeah. I mean, not a lot. But... why shouldn't I?"

"Paige, did your cutting attempt have anything to do with Ellie? Did she suggest it? Or make it sound glamourous?" she asked.

"What? No!" Paige protested. "Ellie's not like that. She'd probably kill me if I told her. God, what kind of person do you think she is?"

"I'm sorry," Sauve said. "But I had to ask. I think the friendship could be good for both of you, though."

"We're not friends," Paige said. Sauve raised her other eyebrow. "I mean, we're complete opposites. Do you KNOW what she would do to my reputation?" She immediately regretted the words.

"Paige, the life you had--it's gone," Sauve said. "You're grasping at the past and it's not doing you any good. You care more about people than your reputation. And you can't do all the things you used to, because you're ill." Paige chewed on her lip. "You can't hold onto the past forever. You can't stay young and care only about superficial things. You're not that kind of person, Paige. I've seen it. I see it everytime you come into my office."

"I don't want to be sick," Paige said.

"No one does. But it's not something you choose." She sighed. "This might turn out to be nothing. It might just be a bad flu. Or, it might be something worse. But if it is, you'll deal with it. You'll find a new norm. A new something to keep you happy, a new reason to keep on fighting. But clinging on to something you were isn't going to help. I know you don't want to hear this. But you have to accept that this might be your life. And you have to find some way to be okay with that."

For once in her life, Paige Michalchuk had no idea what to say.


	14. Don't Change Your Plans

**A/N: **So this isn't the greatest of chapters but I was kind of stuck and I wanted to put something out there.

A few notes that don't pertain to the story. First of all, Return To Innocence will be undergoing MAJOR changes, and will probably be eliminated from the site in its current form. I'm considering making it entirely original fiction, changing the characters to original ones as they seem on the verge of being OOC as it is. I have it planned, and it'll probably end up as a long one-shot, whether or not I keep it as a fanfic.

Secondly, I'm planning on participating in this years NaNoWriMo. So if any updates go up on this story during the month of November, someone needs to bash my head against the wall. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, visit nanowrimo (dot) org. I'm planning on putting my NaNo on fictionpress (dot) com, so if you're interested, I write under Daimeera there as well.

Think that's it. Thanks for reading!

**

* * *

**

**XIV - Don't Change Your Plans**

Ellie's face was red. Not pink, not a tame red, but a blazing, fire-engine, kill-me-now red. Gynecology was bad enough, but gynecology with one's boyfriend was torture.

Dr. Cavanaugh had convinced Ellie that taking Sean to her appointment was a good idea. Now Dr. Adams was explaining the fine points of the female reproduction system, while Sean nodded occasionally, seeming perhaps a little TOO interested.

Ellie had just concluded that it was impossible to be any more embarrassed when the good doctor launched into a detailed description of menstruation. She considered plugging her ears and humming, but she decided that it probably wasn't the cleverest of ideas. Instead, she turned two shades brighter, and began plotting revenge--both on the doctor, and on Sean.

"Ellie?" Dr. Adams asked, jolting her out of her homicidal trance. "Can you tell me what I just said, please?"

"Um..." Ellie said. "Something about periods?"

Dr. Adams shook her head. "Birth control," she said. "And the importance of it." She gave her a rather pointed look.

"We use birth control," Sean said, confused. "Ellie's on the pill. I mean, I offered for us to use condoms, but she practically insisted." Ellie dropped her gaze right down to her feet. "El?" he asked.

"I, um, kind of stopped," she said. "I mean, I wasn't getting periods anyway and it was just extra expense." She forced a very fake-sounding laugh.

"And you didn't tell me?" Sean asked. "I mean, what, you didn't think it mattered? That I wouldn't want to know?"

"I'm sorry," Ellie said, trying not to cry. "I should have told you. I just didn't know what to say. I didn't... I didn't want you to be unhappy. I mean, guys are always complaining about how they don't want to use condoms and I didn't want to do that to you."

Sean sighed. "Ellie, I don't care about a stupid piece of latex or plastic or whatever it is. I care about you. I care about keeping you safe." Ellie reached for his hand, assuming all was forgiven. Sean accepted, but wasn't finished. "I don't like lies, Ellie. They're deal-breaker for me. Please. Don't lie to me."

"But I didn't--exactly," she protested.

"You're splitting hairs," he said. "Lying by omission is still lying. And don't change the subject and say something about Dr. Phil. This is important." She looked down, having been prepared to do just that. "Promise me," he said. "Promise that you'll tell me the truth. I'm not going to get upset with you if you do. But I need to know what's going on."

"You're not my dad," Ellie said.

"Cheap shot, El. I'm not trying to be. I didn't lecture you about your cutting, did I? I didn't try and parent you. I have a stake in this too. I love you. But if you keep lying to me, I can't do it."

Ellie closed her eyes and nodded. "Okay," she said. "Okay. I promise. I won't lie." She opened her eyes again and met his gaze, and he gave her a peck on the cheek. Dr. Adams had observed silently up until this point, and gave a quick nod of approval.

"I can supply you two with condoms," the doctor said. "Since clearly you're going to have sex anyway. I think you might want to slow it down a bit, though. You're young, and emotions can easily run way too high. Obviously it's up to you, though." She pulled out a packet of condoms. "You can drop by and get more when you run out if you're too embarrassed to buy them. It's important that you not only use them, but that you use them correctly."

"We know," Ellie said. "We've had how many years of lectures with Dr. Sally?"

"About a dozen," Sean confirmed.

"You squeeze the tip so there's place for the... Yeah. And then you roll it on, making sure not to stick holes," Ellie said. "Pretty basic stuff."

Dr. Adams nodded. "I still need to examine you sometime, Ellie. We can do it today, or we can make an appointment for sometime soon, but it's important we do it."

"Now," Sean said, before Ellie could reply. "Or I'll never manage to drag her back here. Ellie nodded her consent.

"Now it is," the doctor said. Ellie sighed and hopped up on the table, turning a few more shades of red.

* * *

Paige had already eaten two slices of pizza, both of which ended up in the toilet. She kept promising herself that she would stop, that she'd only do it once more and then she'd start eating fruit and only fruit, but with a mother who tried to tempt her into eating, things weren't exactly going as planned. 

She let out a patented Paige sigh and pulled out her English homework, flipping through her book, then closing it again. She'd planned on visiting Ellie that day, but after her meeting with Sauve, it had been all she could do to drag herself home. She closed her eyes, hoping that maybe when she opened them, she'd discover it was all a dream. She sighed again and pinched herself, knowing that it wouldn't happen.

She was still trying to figure out which courses to drop, and a big part of her wanted to abandon them all. She'd gone from being overly ambitious to having no ambition at all, and she didn't even have the ambition to attempt to find ambition. She was sick of hurting, sick of being tired, and would have done just about anything to get her life back.

She pondered for a moment, then picked up the phone. For whatever reason, she was more concerned about talking with Ellie than she was with talking to Hazel or Ashley or any of the Spirit Squad members. She quickly dialed the hospital's phone number and waited while they patched her through to Ellie's room.

"Hello?" Paige almost didn't recognize her voice. She knew Ellie was smiling even without seeing the other girl.

"Ellie? It's Paige," she said. "I just thought I'd call and see how you were doing."

"Um, hold on," Ellie said. Paige heard her slap her palm across the receiver, and managed to make out some of the noise in the background. "Sean, stop it," Ellie protested, giggling. She said something else, but it was too muffled for Paige to make out, then she came back on the line. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Paige said. "So how ARE you doing."

"I'm ticklish, apparently," Ellie said. "Which isn't really fair because I'm supposed to be downright miserable. Thanks, Sean." She paused. "How are you?"

"Um, fine," Paige said. "Great."

"Okay, you're a worse liar than I am," Ellie said. "And you've listened to me ramble on enough times that I can at least do the same for you. I might even pay attention."

"Um, I guess I shouldn't have--"

"--Paige, it was a joke. My jokes tend to be self-deprecating. Sometimes I get sick of myself and insult someone else. Sarcasm. Ever heard of it? By the way, that was a joke too."

Paige sighed. It would have been a record except for the fact that Paige was constantly sighing, so for those in earshot, it was nothing new. "I have to drop some courses," she admitted. "And I don't know which ones to abandon or how to reconcile myself to the fact." She mentally slapped herself for admitting weakness.

"Wow," Ellie said quietly. "Um, well, which ones do you most need?"

"All of them. I'm stupid and I took some courses last year that don't count toward graduation. I can drop sociology and still make it, but that's the easiest one. So, basically, I'm not going to graduate."

"On time," Ellie corrected her. "You're not going to graduate on the time schedule you have planned out. Doesn't mean you're not going to graduate. It's not such a big deal."

"Excuse me?" Paige said. "Not a big deal? Ellie, this is my LIFE." She hung up the phone before Ellie had a chance to protest.


	15. All She Wants To Do Is Dance

**A/N: **I'll keep it quick. Here it is, at long last. Apologies for it taking so long.

I think I pulled it off okay, but I'm challenging myself to slow down my writing--while I'm writing it always feels draggy but reading things back later, they seem rushed. I'd appreciate feedback on whether it worked in this chapter, and any concrit in general. I can take it--I want to improve (mind you, I certainly do appreciate the compliments!).

Thanks, and I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**  
XV - All She Wants To Do Is Dance**

Paige stepped on the scale for the third time in two minutes but the number hadn't changed. It was right there, taunting her, screaming at her, mocking her futile attempts to lose weight--a full pound more than the day she'd first thrown up.

She kicked the scale, chipping her polish and stubbing her toe in the process. Her mother was at work, and once again, Paige hadn't been able to drag herself off to school. And, from the looks of things, she had more important ways to spend her energy. Maybe she wouldn't graduate, but the least she should be able to do was lose some weight.

She dragged herself back to her room and sat on the edge of her bed, pondering her next move. She'd already thrown up that morning's breakfast, so there was little more she could do on that front. She would have killed to go back to sleep, but Paige Michalchuk would not lack in discipline. It was daytime, and during the day, people are awake. End of story.

She stifled a yawn and stood again, trying a few poses in front of the mirror and wrinkling her nose in distaste. There was no way around it. She had to exercise, and her body would simply have to co-operate. It would obey her. She would make it work.

She pawed through her closet, trying to find something to wear. She'd been neglecting her laundry, along with everything else, and it wasn't an easy job. The only clean jogging pants she could find were two sizes too small. She pondered for a moment, and then with the reluctance usually reserved for scrubbing toilets, she took three steps down the hall and entered her brother's room.

She searched through his half-empty drawers and finally located a clean pair of shorts that could be made to fit. They were hideous, but she reminded herself that her peers were all in school for at least the next half-hour--and that hideous shorts were better than a hideous body.

By the time she'd found a t-shirt and pulled on a pair of running shoes, her body was already screaming in protest. Nevertheless, she grabbed her keys and hauled open the door, heading outside.

The sun was bright but the air was chilly and her muscles stiffened up even more (if at that point it was even possible). She ignored the pain and pushed herself into a jog, her legs trembling. She figured that she was just out of shape--that as her muscles warmed up, it would get easier.

She was wrong.

She'd stumbled three blocks away, most of it in semi-delirium, when she finally allowed herself to collapse on a perfectly manicured front lawn. She didn't even bother sitting up--she let her upper body flop down onto the prickly grass.

Her sides were heaving and already the cold air touching her sweaty skin was teasing out the goosebumps. She wanted desperately to be at home, but home was three blocks away, and it may has well have been three miles. She hadn't had the foresight to bring her cell phone, so until she regained some muscle, she was stuck where she was, barely with the energy to shiver. She would have cried but even that seemed too daunting a prospect--and she was in public, whether she liked it or not.

As she lay there, she couldn't help but think of how she'd hung up on Ellie the night before. Maybe--just maybe--she'd been a teensy, tiny bit too rough on Ellie. Maybe she'd kind of misunderstood; maybe she owed Ellie a little apology. That was, assuming she didn't die on whoever's front lawn she was crushing.

And it occurred to her then that Spinner's house was just down the street. If she was lucky, Kendra might be home... but if she was unlucky, he would be there. And he would see her looking like a total mess.

She weighed her choices. She could try and stumble back home. She could ask a stranger for help. Or she could risk facing Sasquatch.

As she struggled to her feet and her legs nearly gave out from beneath her, it was obvious that the first option was out of the question. The second was a little too dangerous; she'd learned the hard way not to trust anyone she didn't know--male in particular. So, to Casa Mason it was.

The walk took her nearly five minutes as she concentrated on simply keeping her legs underneath her. She knocked on the door and three taps turned into five, multiplied by the violent trembling of her body.

Spinner answered the door but before he could say anything she stumbled past him and collapsed on the bottom stair of the set that lead to the upstairs bedrooms.

"Listen up," she said, in what she hoped was an authoritative voice. "You're going to drive me home. You're not going to talk to me and you're not going to tell anyone about this. Got it? Good. Now go get your keys."

His mouth gaped and he blinked a few times, then dutifully turned and headed for the kitchen. He was halfway there before his brain finally kicked in.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. Not until you tell me why, Paige. Or--or until you say please."

She started to laugh and then it occurred to her that it probably wasn't a good idea, considering her current circumstances. She let her chin drop into her hand, trying to think of the right thing to say.

"I can't believe you dated Ellie," she said finally.

"Okay, you need to leave now." There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, but Paige knew she was dangerously close to disaster. She sighed.

"Look, I need a favour, okay? I paid for your car, so it's the least you can do."

"You paid for the repairs after you smashed it," he corrected her. "And you still owe me some, by the way."

She sighed again and if she'd had the energy (and the guts), she would have rolled her eyes. "Spinner, please. I'm sorry, okay? I'll pay you the rest soon. Just between being sick and school... I'll get you the money. Just please take me home."

Paige Michalchuk had been reduced to begging. She wasn't happy about it, but she was at Spinner's mercy, and if that's what he wanted, well, that's what she would have to give him.

He started to speak, then closed his mouth again and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Spin..." she said weakly. "Spinner. Gavin. Look, our break-up sucked. But it's none of my business who you dated. Sorry. Can you just take me home? I'm not going anywhere until you do."

Much to her relief, he gave her a scrutinising look but resumed his march to the kitchen. She let out the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and slumped down, not even caring anymore that the poor posture made her look twenty pounds heavier than she was.

He returned a moment later and tossed his keys in the air--intending, Paige supposed, to impress her. Instead of catching them, however, they hit his hand and dropped to the floor, falling directly in front of Paige's feet. She raised an eyebrow and he sheepishly picked them up, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded and pulled herself to her feet with the aid of the stair railing. "Yeah. Let's go."

She half-expected to feel his hands on her, helping her toward the vehicle, but he kept them to himself and she was relieved that he did so. She stepped outside and slipped into the passenger's seat, then closed her eyes. The car dipped under his weight as he got in, and for a moment, there was silence.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She didn't open her eyes but she could almost feel him shaking his head, and then there was the jingle of keys and the car started.

He could have driven there in his sleep, but he was fiercely focused on the road and when Paige finally looked at him, he was unaware of her gaze.

She missed him. She couldn't help but miss him even though he'd been a total jerk and she was with Matt (or, at least, she thought she was--she hadn't exactly been on many dates lately). But there Spinner was, the same as always, and suddenly it was that much harder to remember why she'd dumped him in the first place. He was sweet and slightly stupid... and he was healthy. And when they were together, she'd been healthy too.

She looked away again, her eyes unseeing, and within thirty seconds, she'd started to doze off.

"We're here."

"Huh? Oh. Right." She fumbled with the door and finally managed to get it open. She tried to step out--and was promptly met with unexpected resistance. She crinkled her brow in confusion and sank back down into the seat.

"Your seatbelt," Spinner said. She glanced over at him, expecting laughter or at least a smirk, but instead, there was poorly veiled concern.

"Right," she said again. She managed to unfasten it this time and made it into the house, her feet barely obeying her commands. He waited until the door closed behind her and then slowly drove away.

She was too tired to even make it upstairs. Instead she folded her body nearly in half and climbed onto the loveseat in the living room. She didn't even notice the spattering of dirt that trailed across the carpet and onto the cushions.

She didn't fall asleep, but even the semi-conscious restlessness was a welcome change.


	16. Across the Universe

**XVI - Across the Universe**

Ellie examined her hands intently, taking careful note of the one splotch of black polish still clinging to her right pinkie fingernail. She was balanced precariously on the edge of the neatly made hospital bed (even though she knew they'd tear it apart the moment she was gone, she'd still felt the need to pull the blankets tight). She whistled under her breath, one foot tapping just a little too quickly to be keeping the beat, and she tried to quell the knot of anxiety in her stomach.

Ms. Kwan arrived early--Ellie had suspected she would and had sped through her preparations accordingly.

"Hey," the teacher said, her voice a little too bright. It occurred to Ellie that she wasn't the only one feeling the effects of her nerves, and the thought was oddly comforting.

"Hi," Ellie whispered. She cleared her throat. "Hi." She managed it a little more loudly this time.

"Hi," Ms. Kwan said again, then she, too, cleared her throat, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. "Do, uh, do you need anything? Or are you ready to go?"

"Um, I'm ready now?" It came out as more of a question, but the older woman nodded and Ellie slid her feet onto the ground. "I just have to pull my boots on," she continued. She shoved them on and yanked at the zipper so fiercely that Ms. Kwan was forced to wonder how they'd lasted this long.

Ellie drifted toward the door, then looked uncertainly at the teacher, who nodded her reassurance. "After you. I got you checked out already. And I bumped into Dr. Cavanaugh. She said to tell you she'd see you soon."

Ellie would have felt touched except that when such words came in her direction, they were generally warnings that she damn well better show up at her next appointment. So she managed a small smile and a nod, and the two continued to the elevator in awkward silence.

As they walked, Ellie ran a hand lightly along the dull off-white walls, taking in their too-familiar roughness. She hoped she wouldn't be back anytime soon--at least not for anything other than an appointment. True, they treated her well, and to a certain extent, part of her even liked being there because it meant safety... but the larger part of her dearly missed having some freedom.

They made it to the elevator and Ms. Kwan punched the button for the main floor while Ellie pressed herself into the back corner of the tiny box. Elevators always made her feel vaguely claustrophobic, and that was only amplified by the past few days of confinement.

They finally arrived outside--not a moment too soon for Ellie's comfort. A smile played across her lips without her even noticing, and her feet danced across the sidewalk a little easier. The sun was shining, and while Ellie wasn't normally a huge fan of bright days, the very fact that it wasn't fluorescent lighting made it worthy of worship.

Her obvious joy was enough to break the tension, and Ms. Kwan smiled in appreciation. "Feeling a bit better?"

Ellie nodded. "I haven't had fresh air in days. I'd practically forgotten what it was like on the outside. I, uh, guess I have you to thank for getting me out of there."

"Nonsense. I'm just giving you somewhere to stay for awhile. You're the one doing all the work."

"Well... thank you anyway," Ellie said. "I mean, for what you are doing. Even if... it is a big deal. To me at least. So, um--"

"Ellie. It's my pleasure."

"Oh. Right," Ellie said weakly.

"So we'll head to your apartment first to pick up some things?"

Ellie nodded. "Please."

They spent the drive alternating between silence and idle chitchat, and both couldn't help but wonder if this was going to be a permanent state of imbalance. It certainly wasn't what either one had been expecting, but it was their reality now, and there was no going back.

When they arrived at the apartment, Ellie spent a moment fumbling with her keys and then managed to get the door open. Her hands shook and she was more concerned with Ms. Kwan's opinions than she cared to admit. "This is it," she mumbled, eyes studying the floor--which, she noticed, Sean had been considerate enough to scrub clean. She found Bueller asleep in the corner and snatched him up into her arms, forgetting everything else.

"Hey you," she said softly, a smile once more creeping to her lips.

"He's cute."

Ellie nearly jumped. The minute she'd seen Bueller, the rest of the world had ceased to exist. "He is, isn't he?" she managed after a minute. She reluctantly set him back down in his corner and headed for her--rather, her and Sean's--bedroom.

Sean had offered to take the day off school to help, but Ellie had persuaded him not to. Ms. Kwan was taking the day off just for her, and Ellie had been looking forward to it--in a way it made things harder, because Sean wasn't there to break the tension, but she wanted to become more comfortable with the teacher, and she figured that was the best way to do it.

Ellie grabbed some clothes and stuffed them into her bag, not really taking notice of what she was doing, and then realised that she'd left Ms. Kwan just standing there in the kitchen. She sped back out and found the woman cooing over Bueller, and she couldn't help but grin.

"Sorry, I kind of... left you here? Um, make yourself at home or whatever. I won't be long."

With that, she skipped back to her room, her mind drifting in a million different directions at once. This wasn't how she'd expected things to go, certainly, but she was comforted by the knowledge that she hadn't yet scared off her new (temporary) guardian.

She remembered at the last minute to pack underwear and her toothbrush, and then she took one final look around the room. She'd been missing it already, and the knowledge that it wouldn't be her home for the next little while was hard to take. There were a million memories already contained within from the short time she and Sean had been there, and she didn't want to prolong making the million and first. Nevertheless, it beat the alternatives.

She let out a long breath and turned away, nodding to herself. It was time to go forward.

"I'm ready," she whispered to herself, and then she repeated the words more loudly, for Ms. Kwan to hear. "I'm ready."

The drive to Ms. Kwan's was shorter and much less strained than their previous voyage had been. There was still a certain air of caution and unfamiliarity, but Ellie in particular was feeling more courageous, and even mentioned her father briefly, albeit only to say that he was in the same condition as before.

Ms. Kwan's house was larger--and messier--than Ellie had expected. And what she appreciated even more was that the teacher didn't apologise for it being less than immaculate. It was lived in and it was comfortable, and that was what mattered most.

"I, um, hooked up my old computer it your room," Ms. Kwan said. "I needed my laptop for work so sorry it's not the greatest, but--"

"--But it's amazing," Ellie said. "You didn't have to... I didn't expect it. Any of this."

"Well I had it anyway, so there was no reason for it to go to waste. But homework comes first of course."

Ellie chuckled, finally settling into a moderate comfort zone. "Of course," she repeated. "I would never even dream of doing anything else." She batted her eyelashes in overt innocence, and Ms. Kwan laughed as well.

"Come on. Let me show you around."

Ellie dutifully followed her through all the rooms, struggling with a certain sense of surrealism. She could have never imagined any of this happening--and then she remembered about her father and was immediately overwhelmed with guilt. She'd been enjoying her day while he was in intensive care in the hospital. What kind of a daughter was she?

"Um, would it be okay if I go rest for a bit?" she asked, interrupting Ms. Kwan's monologue about a particular painting on the wall.

The teacher was startled for a moment, but she nodded. "Of course. Do you want anything to eat or drink first...?"

"No," Ellie said. "Um, thanks. But I just... want to get settled."

She headed immediately to the guestroom, which was hers for the time being, and closed the door behind her. She knew she was being rude, but that was the least of her concerns. She dug through her bags and looked desperately around the room, searching for something--anything--sharp. When she found nothing, she threw herself onto her bed, buried her head in her pillow, and cried.


	17. And She Was

**A/N: **Apologies.

* * *

**XVII - And She Was**

Paige was getting sick of the dirty white walls of Ms. Sauve's office, and of the guilt that hung over her every time she neglected to mention her latest diet. She was sick of the searching looks she tried desperately to avoid and of the little bits of nail polish and skin coating the floor--evidence of anxious students who had come before. The very sight made her nauseous, although these days, just about everything did. But nothing she said would convince the counsellor that she was better off spending her energy elsewhere.

"How are you doing?" the counsellor asked. Her voice was practically oozing with sympathy, and while on one level, Paige appreciated the concern, on another, she wished that for once, Ms. Sauve would just leave her alone.

"Fine." She realised suddenly how impatient she sounded and attempted to soften the blow. "Um, great, thanks! How are you?"

"I'm doing well," she said politely. "But it sounds like you're not. What's up?"

"I'm fine," Paige repeated. "Really."

Ms. Sauve sighed heavily, giving Paige a stern look. "Okay," she said. "Then let's talk about school. Have you decided what courses you want to drop?" Never let it be said that Chantel Sauve was one to waste time with formalities and small-talk.

"Um... not exactly."

"Paige, you need to get this figured out. The semester is almost half over and if you don't decide what you're going to concentrate on, you're in danger of losing it entirely--and any courses you haven't dropped will go on your transcript. Not only will you not pass any of them, but you'll have that failing grade on record."

"But--but I can't," Paige protested. "I'll get caught up somehow. I have to. I have to graduate on time. Please, can't you work something out?"

"I'm a guidance counsellor, not a miracle worker." Her voice was gentle now, her impatience gone, and somehow that was worse. It was pity now--it meant that Paige had no chance of changing her mind.

As Ms. Sauve's words tumbled through her head, Paige's nausea was rapidly increasing. She let her eyes dart around the room, hoping for distraction, but there was none sufficient to untie the knot in her stomach.

"Paige?" The counsellor's tone wasn't exactly comforting--she sounded almost as uncertain as Paige felt. "Paige, talk to me. Are you feeling okay?"

Paige nodded, then shook her head, and then nodded again. She clenched her hands into fists and started to explain that she was just feeling a little sick, but she nearly gagged when she opened her mouth, so she abruptly shut it again.

"Take a few slow breaths, okay?"

She tried to obey, but her chest felt heavy and there were tears in her eyes. The office faded away and she found herself alone, in silence but for her gasps for air, and unable to focus on anything but the discarded skin and dirt ground into the pale blue carpet.

And suddenly, she knew she wouldn't make it to the bathroom. Her eyes widened and she grabbed the garbage can next to Ms. Sauve's desk, then promptly vomited, coughing and choking as her stomach turned inside out and tried to expel itself of emptiness--she hadn't eaten yet that day.

When her breathing finally calmed, she couldn't even look at the counsellor. Instead she trained her eyes to the side of the room, avoiding the sight of the wastebasket as she tried to decide what to do next.

Ms. Sauve finally broke the silence. "Feeling any better?"

Paige hesitated, then shrugged, too embarrassed to give any other reply.

"You're not the only student who's ever thrown up in my office," she said when she realised she wouldn't be receiving an answer anytime soon. "And you certainly won't be the last. I'll get the janitor, okay? No big deal."

But it was a big deal, and they both knew it.

By the time they'd found an empty classroom where they could continue their session, Paige had somewhat calmed down. "Sorry," she said, her skin green except for her cheeks which were bright red with shame.

"It's okay. But Paige, what happened?"

"I wish I knew."

"Did you eat something that might have disagreed with you, or..."

"No!" she said, emphatically. "I mean, I didn't eat anything weird. I'm sure it's just this flu or whatever I have. Look, I really don't feel good, so can I just go home?"

"Is this the first time it's happened?" the counsellor asked.

"Well, I mean, the first time since I was young. But I'm sure it's no big deal. Look, I'll just take Gravol or whatever. Everyone gets sick sometimes. Why are you making such a big deal about this?"

"Because people don't vomit for no reason. I'm just trying to find the cause. Paige, you're ill, and any details we have can only help the doctors diagnose you." She sighed. "But I'll leave it for now since you're probably not feeling too great. What were we talking about?"

"I really don't--"

"Courses, right?" Paige tensed once more, and Ms. Sauve gave an almost imperceptible nod, then made a quick note on her pad of paper.

"I just--do what you think is best." She didn't have the energy to fight anymore. "Okay? You're the counsellor or whatever."

"I think you should stay in English. And maybe History, but drop everything else."

Paige slumped in her chair, defeat in her eyes. "Fine. That sounds fine." She felt nearly sick again. "Can I just go home?"

Ms. Sauve hesitated, but nodded. "I'll see you in a week, okay? Or sooner, if there's a problem. And I'll speak to your teachers about what we've decided."

Paige didn't wait for further comment. She bolted out of the room and to the front doors of the building, pushing her way to fresh air. When the early-Spring breeze hit her face, the butterflies in her stomach finally subsided. She dropped onto a concrete step, tears in her eyes. There was clearly something really wrong with her, so why couldn't--wouldn't--anyone tell her what it was?

Before she could full-out cry, she was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. She jerked around, only to come face to face with Matt.

"Ma--Mr. Oleander!" she said.

"Paige, can I borrow you for a moment?" Butterflies started up in her stomach as she realised he wasn't looking her in the eye.

"Um, I was just headed home..."

"Please, it's about your Media Immersion mark. It's important."

She sighed and stood up. "Sure."

He led her back into the school, and she stumbled through the halls, her eyes half closed, until they reached the classroom. She followed him in, and he shut the door behind them, firmly, but decisively.

"Is it--can you do that?" she whispered, pointing to the closed door.

"We're not going to be kissing, Paige. Teachers close their doors all the time."

"We're not?" she asked weakly.

"Paige, we need to talk. And this is the first time I've seen you in a week, so it has to be now."

"I've been sick." But she knew that no matter what she said, it wasn't going to change the words spilling from his lips.

"I think we need to break up. I can't--I can't do this anymore. You're my student."

"Oh, right, and that's the only reason you're dumping me," Paige said, her voice rising rapidly. "It doesn't have anything to do with me not being available to make out with you whenever you want, it has nothing to do with--"

"Shh!" he said. "Do you really want the whole world to hear you?"

"Right now?" she replied. "I don't really care. Thanks a lot, Matt. It's been great. Really. And by the way? I'm not in your stupid class anymore, either. So you won't have see me at all." She stormed out of the room, not even sure what she was saying anymore, her mind too clouded by pain and exhaustion and whatever other haze had taken it over as of late.

She fled into the hall and nearly tripped over the stairs outside, only catching her balance at the last moment, steadying herself on one of the concrete pillars, and scraping her palms in the process--not that she noticed until much later that day. She was almost to her car--well, Dylan's car which she had "borrowed"--when, once again, she was interrupted.

"Paige?" She recognised Spinner's voice immediately.

"Now is not the time," she said through clenched teeth. "Leave me alone, Spinner."

"No. No, you can't treat me like this. Are you forgetting the other day when I drove you home? You can't treat me like dirt."

"And are you forgetting earlier this year when you--you know what? Just forget it. What do you want?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing. And I wanted to walk you home."

"I'm driving," she said, feeling slightly ashamed of her outburst, but not ashamed enough to keep the impatience from her voice. "But I'm doing fine. Thanks."

"You look like crap."

"Oh well gee, you sure changed. And you expected me to be fooled? What, did Manny refuse to let you in her pants?" She flounced over to the car and stuck the key in the lock, then her shoulders slumped. "Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it, Spin." She sighed, then tossed the keys in his direction. He fumbled with them, and they fell to the ground, but he quickly snatched them up from the warm asphalt.

"What are these for?"

"I owe you a drive. And since I know you love Dylan's car, you might as well drive me. Whatever." She pinched herself discretely in the thigh, trying to keep herself awake, then climbed in the passenger seat. She glanced back to where he was standing, utterly dumbfounded.

"Well are you coming, or what?"

He was happy to oblige, and she was comforted by the fact that the old Paige hadn't completely disappeared. That didn't stop her from falling asleep on the way home, however--and that didn't stop Spinner from sneaking a few extra trips around the block.


	18. In the Air Tonight

Hope it was worth the wait. I have my doubts, but I tend to be extraordinarily self-critical, so there you go.

* * *

**XVIII - In the Air Tonight**

It seemed to Ellie that she'd just drifted off to sleep when she heard a tentative knock on the door. "Come in," she mumbled, after clearing her mind enough to conclude that no, she wasn't naked, and yes, the room was clean enough that it would be hard to trip over anything. Besides, she always slept with the nightlight on.

Ms. Kwan opened the door, and walked in, then immediately perched on the edge of the bed. "Ellie?" she asked.

Ellie blinked a few times and squinted at the clock. "Is--is the time wrong? It says it's three-fifteen."

"Ellie, your dad woke up. He's conscious, and he's asking for you."

Her mouth gaped slightly, but she dared not get too excited--she'd had this dream a dozen times before. She pinched herself, hard.

"It's not a dream," the teacher said. "So get up, give me five minutes to change clothes, and I'll drive you there. Unless of course you want to wait until normal waking up time?" Ellie was already halfway out of bed. "I'll take that as a no."

The five minutes (four, actually) seemed like a lifetime. She was excited, but she was also terrified. He'd lost his leg. He might have lost at least part of his memory. She hadn't seen him in months--maybe he was an entirely different person altogether. She wasn't sure she could bear the thought of it, and she almost reconsidered her decision to go, but Ms. Kwan was already ushering her into the car.

The vehicle's interior was a pale grey-blue, almost impeccably clean. It still had that new car smell--the teacher had told her that after years of the same old Honda, she'd splurged on something new just months before. The seats had fine pin stripes in their fabric and smooth leather--or perhaps faux leather; Ellie couldn't tell the difference--surrounded the door handles. She noticed all this as she scrutinised the car during the ten-minute drive to the hospital. Being stuck in rush hour traffic was nothing compared to being stuck in pre-hospital traffic.

"Relax," Ms. Kwan said softly, as they pulled into the parking lot. "It'll be okay. He's fine, and you'll be fine."

Ellie nodded, but she found relaxation a whole deal more than impossible. "Um, I'm going to take the stairs," she said. "But you take the elevator. I'll be fine."

She was off like a shot before Ms. Kwan could protest, racing up the five flights of stairs, speeding up with every step. She was still in her pyjamas, which looked ridiculously out of place with her high-heeled boots, but she scarcely noticed, and thankfully, she came across no nurses. Most of them knew her from her stays on the third floor, and had she been more lucid, she could have only imagined the assumptions they'd make.

Ms. Kwan was waiting outside the room when she got there. The elevator had been quicker than the stairs after all, but Ellie had needed to burn the energy anyway. "El--" she started, but Ellie had already bolted past her and into the room.

"Dad!" she said, then froze in her tracks. There was one detail she'd forgotten to expect. Her mother was sitting next to Col. Nash, clutching his hand and looking as if she'd never let go. "Mom," Ellie said, her voice dull this time.

Either her father didn't notice, or he pretended not to. "Ellie!" he said. "Ellie, come here. Give your old dad a hug."

She did, carefully, and he almost succeeded in covering up his wince of pain. It remained an unspoken rule that she was not to apologise, nor acknowledge that she'd hurt him in any way. For the moment, her love for her father won out, and she was able to more or less ignore the elephant in the room.

She started to speak, but she wasn't quick enough. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"Um, fine. I'm living with--I mean, school's--I mean Sean--I mean, how are you?"

"I'm great." They both knew it was as much the truth as it was a lie. In that moment, they were both more than fine. Maybe not in the long run, but for that minute, they couldn't have been happier.

But of course it couldn't last.

"Ellie, I'm glad you finally made it up here," Mrs. Nash said with a pointed stare. She turned to Colonel Nash. "Silly girl fell asleep in the car and I wasn't sure whether or not to wake her up."

Ellie's jaw dropped, but before she could say something she would regret, she pinched herself on the thigh. "Mom, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Don't you want to spend some more time with Dad?" Mrs. Nash replied, shooting her a dirty look when her husband wasn't paying attention.

"It'll just take a minute," Ellie said. She grabbed her mother's arm and dragged her out into the hallway, closing the door behind them. "What the hell was that?" she demanded. "You're acting like we're the perfect family? Like we're living together again, like we reconciled?"

"Ellie, I just thought it would be best--"

"--Don't you remember how upset he was last time we lied to him? I'm not doing this again. I'm not lying."

"Then don't, Ellie. Come home."

Ellie shook her head in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Please?"

"Don't you even realise what you're doing to me, Mom? I mean, god! Try thinking about what I need for once in your life. I love Dad. I will do anything to be with him, and you know it. And you're exploiting it, and you wonder why I hate being around you. You don't love me, and you never have."

"That's not true!" Mrs. Nash protested.

"Really? Because your actions sure say otherwise." She stormed back to the door, remembering to paste a smile on her lips at the very last second before she pulled open the door.

"Sorry about that, Dad," she said. "Just had to check about, uh, school tomorrow, and so on."

"School!" he repeated. "I totally forgot. You should go, sweetheart. We'll have all the time in the world to get caught up." Ellie started to protest, but he held up his hand. "School is important and you need your rest."

"I'll take you home," Mrs. Nash said quickly.

"Don't bother. I can take a cab. Wouldn't want to cut into your quality time with Dad."

She shot her mother one more death glare, then left the room.

"What was that all about?" Colonel Nash asked. But Mrs. Nash only shook her head.

When Ellie returned to the hall, somewhat dazed, Ms. Kwan was all apologies. "I'm sorry," she said. "I tried to warn you before you went in there but you were so eager to see him, not that I blame you, that I didn't get a chance. And then you confronted your mother, and... let's just go home. Or if you don't want to call it home, to my place. And rest."

Ellie wasn't accustomed to the teacher babbling, so she knew Ms. Kwan must have been genuinely upset. Normally she would have tried her best to console her, but it was all she could do to nod. "Yeah," she said. "That would be good."

The sun was just starting to rise as they left the hospital, but it only made Ellie feel worse. "Maybe I was too harsh on her," she said, guilt over-taking her. "Maybe I should have been nicer, given her another chance or something. I shouldn't have made a scene in front of Dad. It so selfish and--"

"Ellie, you were surprised--stunned--and you had a lot of emotions to deal with. Besides, your mother hasn't exactly been a beacon of hope. Try not to worry about it right now, okay? I'm sure we'll work it all out."

Ellie nodded, but she was less than convinced. She focused her eyes on the sun until they ached, trying to stop thinking, then she shifted her focus to counting the cracks in the asphalt as they crossed the parking lot. Luckily, traffic at the hospital was still slow and she was in no particular danger.

"Do you want to stop for a snack or anything?" Ms. Kwan offered.

"No, thanks anyway," Ellie said, then paused to reconsider. "Well, maybe a coffee or something?"

"Caffeine? What about sleeping?"

"I won't get back to sleep anyway. And if I want to make it through school, I'm going to need some major help to do it."

The teacher started to lecture her, then stopped herself. "Coffee it is, then."

The stopped at the local Tim Horton's--The Dot was too far from the hospital, and not open at that hour of the night anyway--and upon Ellie's insistence, they skipped the drive-through and headed inside.

Ellie was stunned to see the tables empty; even in the middle of the night, empty tables were unexpected. The warm smell of coffee filled her nostrils, and she felt immediately rejuvenated before she even had a cup in front of her. There were a few remnants of doughnuts, presumably left over from the day before, and Ms. Kwan ordered two, along with a black coffee for Ellie, and milk for herself.

"You don't have to stay up," Ellie said as an afterthought. "We can take this stuff ho--to your home, and you can go to bed. I don't want to keep you from sleeping."

"If you'll recall, I'm always up by six anyway," she replied with an easy smile. "So I'd just as soon have an early breakfast and a nice chat. Although your fashion choices do leave a little something to be desired."

And for the first time since Ellie had said goodbye to her father, Ms. Kwan had managed to procure a smile. "You don't exactly look like the pinnacle of fashion yourself, you know." She blushed and looked away. "Sorry."

"No, you're right," the teacher agreed. "But I'm in my thirties and the only thing I can do to have someone notice my clothing is to dress in low-risers and a tube top. And don't think that will ever happen."

Ellie sat back and closed her eyes for a moment, grateful for the light conversation that almost took her mind off the rest of her life. It was oddly comfortable, sitting across the table from a woman she barely knew, and she was calmer than she had been an hour before. With her renewed goodwill, she decided to do her good deed of the day.

"So, homework," she said reluctantly. "Want me to take it to Paige after school today?"

---

As promised, Ellie showed up on Paige's doorstep that afternoon. She had to knock twice and was about to leave when the other girl hobbled downstairs and pulled open the door.

"Ma--oh, it's you," she said.

"Gee, Paige, try and contain your enthusiasm," Ellie responded, their truce momentarily forgotten. "Brought you your homework."

"Whoopee."

"I figured you'd be thrilled." She thrust it toward the blonde, and turned to leave.

"Ellie! Want to come in for a minute?" She'd forgotten her manners for a moment, but more than that, she'd forgotten how much she missed having someone to socialise with--even if it was just Ellie Nash.

"Uh..." Paige had already grabbed her hand and dragged her inside, but then she caught sight of herself in the hall mirror, and her eyes widened.

She was a wreck, and no one, not even Ellie, could help but notice. She was make-up free, with dark circles around her eyes, and she hadn't showered in three days. Her hair hung in strings around her face, and her normally perfect skin was oily and dotted with blackheads and the occasional pimple.

"Maybe I should go?" Ellie offered, seeing her discomfort.

"No, it's fine," Paige said, her voice defeated. Ellie had already seen her, after all, so a few more minutes couldn't hurt. It was probably the last she'd see of her, anyway--and of her reputation. She could only imagine what Hazel and Manny and the rest of the student body would say when Ellie told them how horrible she'd looked.

Ellie nodded and shifted from foot to foot, just standing there in the middle of the hallway.

"Why don't you come upstairs," Paige said finally, when it seemed like the silence was going to break them both.

Ellie followed obediently, up and into Paige's puke-pink room. The bed was unmade, and there were clothes scattered across the floor, but it was all just icing on the cake, Paige decided. If she was going to go down, she might as well go down hard. Maybe the more severe it was, the more ridiculous Ellie would seem when she told everyone. Maybe she could laugh it all off and proclaim it a lie

Paige flopped down on her bed and gestured to a chair at her vanity. "It's not exactly comfortable," she said. "But it's all I have."

Ellie considered it for a moment, then dropped down to the carpet instead, leaning her back against the perfectly papered wall. Paige had helped out with it one long weekend years before, and she'd been absolutely meticulous about lining it up, and making sure others were equally as prudent. As she looked at it, she wondered why she'd ever thought it was worth the effort.

"How are you?" Ellie asked cautiously. She immediately regretted the question, not because she didn't want to hear the answer, but because she figured it would only lead to her own interrogation. "I mean, how are you really?"

"Do you really need to ask? I mean, look at me," Paige said. "You're not blind."

"We all have off-days," Ellie protested, but then she nodded her agreement. "I've seen you look better. You must be feeling like shit?" It wasn't really a question.

"What about you?" Paige asked, suddenly uncomfortable with the topic.

Ellie gazed around the room an instant too long before replying. "Really good," she said. "Dad woke up. I swung by the hospital before coming here, but they wouldn't let me in--said he was resting." She smiled, but her eyes were wary.

"We're really good at this bullshit," Paige said, more to herself than anything.

Ellie cracked a small smile. "We are, aren't we?"

They sat in silence for awhile, Paige trying to find a comfortable position on what had seemed a very hard bed the past few months, and Ellie with her chin on her knees, which were tucked neatly to her chest.

"I could put on some music," Paige offered, after several moments had passed. Ellie raised a dubious eyebrow. "Relax. I'm not totally into bubblegum pop. Who wants to see Brittney Spears parading around half-naked?" She found her remote (under her pillow) and flipped through her CDs until she reached one by The Rolling Stones. "Acceptable?" she asked.

Ellie nodded. "Classic, and always worth a listen. Maybe not my favourite, but certainly better than I expected."

The music drowned out the silence, but it was still awkward, perhaps moreso than before.

"Paige?" Ellie said. "If you don't want me here, you can kick me out. I won't be offended, I promise. And if you're worried that I'm going to tell your so-called friends that you're not perfect, don't be. I'm not a gossip."

The words weren't intended to make Paige feel guilty, but they did anyway. "But I am," she said. "A gossip, that is."

"You're putting words in my mouth. What you do is your business."

"I don't want you to leave," Paige said. "Unless you want to. Which you probably do."

Ellie shook her head. "Not really," she said simply. "You have a comfortable floor and the company doesn't entirely suck."

"Ditto," Paige admitted. "Although this is freaking me out a little."

"Why? Because I'm Vampire Girl or whatever you call me? Because I might tarnish your reputation?"

"Because you don't hate me."

Ellie gave her a puzzled look. "Why would I? I don't hate anyone. Life's too short."

"I haven't exactly treated you... nicely."

Ellie shrugged. "You live. You learn. You quote Alanis Morrisette."

"What, that's it?"

"Do it again, keep talking about me, and we'll have a problem. But you've kind of made up for it lately. So, as you would say, whatever."

"Is this where we hug and declare undying friendship?"

"Hell no," Ellie stated. "Let's just start as... acquaintances. Fair?"

"Fair," Paige agreed.

And suddenly the silence wasn't so awkward, and they focused on the music and lost themselves in it for a few moments, relishing the oddness of the situation, and the comfort in change.

When Ellie's sleeve slipped up her arm as she shifted position, she didn't notice. Paige almost didn't notice herself, but Ellie's movement caught her eye, and her suspicions were confirmed when Ellie followed her gaze and then hastily yanked the sleeve back down.

"El...?" Paige asked.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice suddenly stiff and defensive. "I'm fine, okay?"

"But I thought--"

"You're not my mother, okay? It's not your business."

"Come on, Ellie. Don't be like this."

"Drop it."

"Does anyone else know?"

Ellie sighed. "I have an appointment with Ms. Sauve tomorrow. She'll ask, and I'll answer."

"You'll tell her the truth?"

"Yes," Ellie said, a touch of impatience in her voice. "I'll tell her the truth."

"Okay," Paige said quietly. "Okay, good." She was already lost in her own thoughts, however.

It had been, what? Well over a year and a half since Ellie began cutting? Maybe even more. And here she was, still with open wounds and a defensive attitude, and pure misery. If Ellie was still cutting, where did that leave Paige?

"I'll be fine," Ellie said, breaking into Paige's thoughts. "I am fine. Just a slip up, no big deal."

And to Ellie, it wasn't a big deal, and that was what scared Paige most of all. It was so casual--she was self-destructing and it didn't even matter to her. It was an everyday thing, inevitable, just there, constantly. And it always would be, and the longer it festered, the worse it would be.

"Ellie..." she said, but she couldn't finish. Nothing she said would be void of hypocrisy and Ellie would pick up on it if anyone would.

"Don't worry," Ellie said, her voice calmer. "Look, I know it looks bad, but it's not. I've been doing good. Really. Just a setback. Even Ms. Sauve and Dr. Cav told me to expect them. I mean, it sucks. But I don't lie. I can't lie."

Paige nodded, still nervous, but partially satisfied. "Okay," she said reluctantly. "But remember what happens when you don't tell?" She immediately regretted the words. Were they in such a situation that Ellie would take them as a threat?

"Yeah, I remember." But the corner of her lips turned up anyway. She never would have admitted it, but she was starting to enjoy this whole being-cared-about thing.


	19. Life, In a Nutshell

Hi. *Waves* So, I don't know if anyone will still read this, but it's exam period, so I figured, what better thing is there to do than write a story I've abandoned for ages? Yeah, my logic is impeccable. If you read it, cool. If not, cool. Either way, I got to procrastinate.

* * *

**XIX - Life, In a Nutshell  
**  
Despite what she'd told Paige, when Ellie entered Ms. Sauve's office the next day, _it_ had become a big deal. She tugged at her left armwarmer, first pulling the bottom down lower over her hand, then the top higher above her elbow. Ms. Sauve looked at her expectantly, and after meeting her eyes for precisely two microseconds, Ellie shifted her gaze to the clock on the counsellor's desk. But three minutes turned into four, and she could no longer bear the silence.

"Um," she said.

"Yes?"

"So, my dad's awake."

"Laura mentioned that. I'm so glad to hear it!"

Ellie nodded. "I'm going to see him again tonight. At six."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Good, of course," Ellie said, a little too quickly. The counsellor said nothing. "Well, a little nervous, too. Um, yesterday didn't exactly go so well."

"No?"

"No." More silence. "My mom was there, and she wanted to pretend we were some big happy family. Like everything was fine."

"But that's not what you wanted?"

Ellie shook her head. "No. I can't lie to him like that. He's my dad. And she doesn't deserve it. But . . . he doesn't deserve the truth. He deserves better."

"Will she be there when you go today?"

"I made sure she wouldn't be. Well, Ms. Kwan did. She made some calls." Ellie looked up, guilty. "I know, I know. I should have done my own calling. I just can't. Not yet. It's all just too much."

"How have you been handling things since getting out of the hospital?"

An even longer silence, this time. "Okay." Ms. Sauve refused to retract her expectant glance. "Well, mostly okay. Sort of." Ellie laughed nervously. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

"It's my job to listen."

"Look," Ellie burst out, "we both know what I'm not saying. I screwed up. Okay? I screwed up again. I--" She took a short, gasping breath.

"Take your time," Sauve said gently.

Ellie glared at the floor, hearing the seconds tick away. She noticed the specks of dirt, and scuffed one toe across the dirty surface. "You know," she said. "I cut." The words seemed to echo in the suddenly-too-small-too-large office.

Sauve nodded. "Okay. I appreciate you telling me. I know it's not easy."

Ellie blinked, her expression dull. "The cutting is easy."

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"And the telling--the knowing if I do it, I'll have to tell--that's hard. But not cutting is harder. It took me awhile, you know. To find something sharp enough. Because when I grabbed my things from home, I didn't have time to search. Sean hid his razor somewhere. Not that I blame him. And I'd been doing well; you know I had been. So I didn't have a secret stash. So then I was with Ms. Kwan and, I mean, how am I supposed to find something there? Am I supposed to steal from her? I just . . . I didn't know what to do." The words tumbled out, and it was with some relief that Ellie finally shifted her gaze to meet Sauve's eyes. "I didn't know how to do anything else. I don't know how to do anything else."

"So what did you end up doing?"

Ellie shook her head. "It sounds so pathetic when I say it. But I had some of my favourite CD's with me, and I just . . ." she shrugged. "I broke one. And I used it. And I know, it wasn't exactly sanitary or any of that stuff but I didn't care. It didn't matter."

"It sounds like you were feeling pretty desperate."

"Yeah."

"When was this, exactly?"

"After we got back from the hospital. Before school. I think my adrenaline had run out, but the coffee had kicked in. I was, I don't know, agitated. Couldn't seem to sit still for more than five seconds at a time. And hurting, physically, was all I could think about." She swiped at the tears forming in her eyes, faking a yawn to try to cover the show of emotion. "I'm scared it's always going to be like this." She opened her mouth to say more, then shut it again, dropping eye contact once more. Then, "will it always be like this?" She barely whispered the words.

"I don't think it will. Listen, you were in recovery, but not for that long. And your life was uprooted pretty quickly. While I can't say I'm happy about the cutting, I'm not surprised. And that's not because I don't think you can handle things, it's because I think that's how you've learned to handle things. It isn't a long-term solution--I think we can both agree on that--but I don't know that it's worse than some of the alternatives. We'll work on it. And continue to work on it. Together. You're not in this alone."

"I feel like I'm letting everyone down. All the time. You know, I say I'm doing my best and seem to convince them, and you, of that but it feels like I'm hardly trying. When I'm honest with myself, it feels like I should be doing more. Could be doing more. I'm sorry." She squirmed in her seat, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the revelations.

"I believe that you are doing your best. Not because you tell me you are, but because I see it. I don't know if that's any comfort to you. But give it a little longer, okay?" She offered a gentle smile. "You did well today. Same time tomorrow?"

Ellie nodded, relieved to be off the hook for the moment. "Yeah, I guess so." She stood, awkwardly, and heaved her backpack up and over one shoulder.

"Good luck tonight."

Ellie allowed herself a small smile. "Thanks. I think it'll be good. Even if it's hard. I think tonight will be okay." She took three short steps to the door, twisted the metal knob, and left the room without looking back.

She very nearly bumped into one Paige Michalchuk.

"Long time, no see," Paige managed.

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah."

Paige narrowed her eyes almost imperceptibly at the dazed look on the red-head's face. "Are you okay?" Ellie seemed to snap to attention at that. She gestured at the door. "Ah, yes."

"I will be," Ellie said. She stopped herself from adding the words of uncertainty swirling in her head. Surely if she stopped saying them, that would be the first step to stopping the thoughts. "Your turn for the inquisition, then?"

"No, actually. I was just on my way out." Ellie gave her a quizzical look. "I dropped classes. I just finished my second--and last--of the day."

"Lucky."

"What about you?"

"Art. Not that I'll be doing anything, since I finished my painting last week, when I was in the hospital."

Paige barely had a moment to think before she heard her own voice. "Then come get coffee with me instead."

"With you?" Ellie echoed.

"Well, I mean, if you don't want to go to class." Paige back-pedalled desperately, hoping to save some shred of her self-esteem. "You just seemed to want to skip it, that's all."

"You're right. I do. Let's go."

They made an interesting pair, as they exited the building. Paige, heavy-footed in old sneakers and a new pair of size large sweatpants (pink) trudged with her head down and shoulders slumped. And Ellie, in her sullen blacks and reds and solid combat boots lifted her face to the sun, closing her eyes for a moment and letting the warmth seep into her pores. It was an uncharacteristic role reversal, but neither noticed the irony in their body language. And three minutes later, they were across the street and in the very deserted Dot.

Ellie headed for a window seat, but Paige directed her into the corner instead. "No offence hon, but I'm not really looking for an audience."

"Because you're with me."

"Because I haven't showered in three days and you're supposed to be in class."

Ellie smirked. "Good point. The naughty corner it is." Ellie perched one of the chairs, and watched curiously as Paige plopped down into another. "Still not feeling so well?"

"I think I'm getting a bit better," Paige said, but she didn't sound convinced.

"Well I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Coffee and junk food it is. Want to split a large fries?"

And suddenly, Paige's stomach was rumbling. "Sure," she said, before she could stop herself.

Ellie trod over to the counter to order, not bothering to wait for the one staff member to notice their presence and visit the table instead. When she returned, Paige was staring blankly into space, and Ellie saw that her hands were trembling.

"Hey," she said. "Are you okay? You're shaking."

Paige glanced down, then up again. "Oh, that. Yeah, when I get tired, it happens. Which is all the time lately."

"Oh," Ellie said. "Well, maybe food will help." As if on cue, the waitress appeared and set two coffees before them, and a large basket of fries with smaller cups of ketchup. Ellie smiled. "Dig in!" She popped a fry into her mouth, and Paige did the same after a moment's hesitation.

It didn't take them long to demolish their food. And then, for Paige, the anxiety set in. She cleared her throat, took a nervous sip of her almost-gone coffee, and squirmed around in her seat. "'Scuse me for a minute," she said, and headed to the washroom before Ellie could respond.

She darted into one of the stalls, yanking the door shut behind her, and dropped to her knees. She was already gagging; lately, it seemed, more often than not, she didn't even need to force the vomiting. There were tears in her eyes, from the exertion, the acrid stench, and the desperation at what she was doing, but she scarcely noticed. She ripped off a piece of toilet paper, patted clean her mouth, flushed the toilet, and opened the stall door, only to see Ellie standing right in her way, eyes wide. "H-hi," Paige stammered.

"Hi," Ellie repeated, voice dulled.

"I was just--"

"Are you--"

"Fine," Paige said. "Totally fine."

"Oh. It's just, you didn't sound fine."

"What were you doing in here, anyway?"

"I had to pee--wait, why are we talking about me? Paige?"

Paige pushed past Ellie, and with a violent twist of the taps, shoved her hands in under the running water. She got some soap from the pump and began washing, meticulously scrubbing every bit of dirt, and imagined dirt, from her skin and under her nails.

"Totally fine," Paige repeated. And Ellie didn't quite know how to respond to that.


End file.
